Prisoner
by James Rylee 18
Summary: "Even if you get to the center, you'll never get out again." Labyrinth's have no way out and Sarah never left. With only thirteen hours to solve her way back, Sarah is caught between Jareth and her freedom and a new stranger, who promises Sarah freedom at a very strange price.
1. Chapter 1

The hours were wearing thin as the poor woman ran. In the turbulent, dark world she had imprisoned herself within for these thirteen hours nothing was ever as it was supposed to be. Bright but angry eyes watched her from all corners, even when she finally made it to the castle; there were no fan-fairs for the wicked. Cursing her own selfish heart she surged onward, up a flight of tall stairs, past an abandoned throne room and into a chamber lit only by slow burning lamps. A door, decorated in a great iron door knocker, stood mockingly. For a moment the woman was still, her heart beating in her body like a panicked bird. The knocker was girl from the waist up, but tree roots from the middle downward where the roots spiraled into nothing, their texture almost blending in with the swirls and knots in the door's wooden design. In the girl's mouth a ring hung, an object so grotesque in her pretty face it made the woman flinch in disgust. Against the smooth cheeks this ring made an impression, spreading the teeth wide, making the lips thin with the stretch and neck shortened with flesh pushed down by the jaw. It was an ugly thing but her sorrowful stare could make even this woman wish she could remove her tormentor from her lips.

Regretfully, she knocked. The end of the ring clicked angrily against the iron-girl's breasts, where a half circle mark had already been worn into the metal. The door rolled open loudly and a hot wind blew across the woman's face as she entered quietly into the imagined world. Illusion swept over her gently, a wave of false scent and light.

Her heart ached and her mind was screaming at her to run, Sarah was not worth losing everything she had. Sarah wasn't worth finding, her mind cooed. She was his property now. All she would come back to is an empty apartment, no food, no money. Nothing.

Again regretful the woman stepped forward and was swallowed whole into a dream.

* * *

"_Even if you get the center you'll never get out again…"_

When Sarah woke it was with the impression that someone had just spoken, but her room was empty. This feeling of waking up after a dream, with the lasting impression of its content was troubling to her. The sensation had occurred for a very long time; waking was painful, like tearing open a scab that refused to heal. She never seemed to wake up comfortably or rested, and she was always in disarray. A number of her pillows had made their way to the floor and with them a leather book, bright red. Its place beneath her pillows had been disturbed by her restless sleep. She replaced it to its home and stood to dress. Her step-mother had set out an outfit for her, a new habit that had developed between the two of them. Every other weekend they ventured together to the mall and each picked something to buy and something to wish for. Sometimes, when it was something Sarah had really wished for it would appear the following day and Karen would give her an extra kind smile.

That morning the beautiful blue journal that Sarah had seen in an outlandish book store was sitting on her vanity table, ball-point pen tucked in by the spine. Her outfit, selected by Karen was a pair a shorts and a green shirt with bell sleeves and odd embroidery in parallel lines down the front. It was just the sort of earthly attire Sarah loved, something that Karen used to find irritating. Sarah dressed, and pulled up her hair. She could not remember when she began taking such care of the way she looked, maybe it came with the age, but she was careful as she braided her dark locks and pinned in a few fake flowers. She and Karen had settled into a happy medium of a relationship: Karen accepted some of Sarah's eccentric tastes and aversion to boys, while Sarah accepted the chore of attempting a relationship with a woman who was not her mother. Though some select pictures of her mother still smiled back to her from behind pretty frames about her room, she had not heard from the woman in at least two years. Her face appeared to her once in a review of the newspaper, a good one all about the publicized romance between the beautiful Linda and her dashing onstage partner. Sarah had eyed her image in the paper and promptly tossed it back onto the kitchen table. No need for bitterness. Maybe a little discontent feelings.

Maybe she hated her a little.

So that morning when a dark haired woman was sitting at the same kitchen table across from her anxious looking step-mother Sarah was so aghast that she turned immediately around to run, her room was only a stair case away...

"Sarah?" It was too late.

"Damn," She was hushed, but she knew Karen could guess her emotions. She gave her a pleading stare and patted the back of her son, Toby, who sat beside her toying with his cereal. Sarah watched her little brother as she approached the kitchen. Even happy Toby in all his boyish ignorance of his older sister's complicated feelings was making uneasy faces at the woman across the table from him. When Sarah's steps brought her to the edge of the grand doorway the dark-haired woman tuned around.

"Sarah!" Linda stood, her pretty blue stress fluttering when she moved.

She was not as Sarah remembered her. Her hair was still that dark beautiful brown, no hint of grey in sight, but her creamy skin seemed fleshy and sagging. Under her eyes seemed darker than it once was. The skin of her upper arms was flushed when she approached her, outstretched as if to embrace.

Sarah almost considered taking the hug, but initially backed away from her mother whose sweet expression fell flat.

She brushed off the shun and smiled at her daughter, a strain in her eyes that made her look nearer to her actual age.

"I have been looking to get to you for a long time, honey," Linda said. "I had a lot of trouble getting here."

"You used to live here," Sarah said. "It shouldn't have been hard to find."

"It's been a long time..." She dared to look hopeful. "You are so beautiful."

Sarah chewed the inside of her cheek, eyeing her mother and her step-mother both. Had Sarah been younger she might have happily embraced her mother, maybe even plead with her to take her away.

"I am going to the park." She said, a little too abruptly. Both Karen and Linda gave a start.

On Sarah's scurry to the door she nearly knocked over her father Robert who had entered the home from walking Merlin through the kitchen door. His mouth was slack at the sight: his daughter breaking for escape while his current wife and young son sat hosting an awkward breakfast to his ex-wife.

Sarah could not imagine the kind of pain he was feeling, she was too focused on making her run. Through the garage and down the street, past the shops of her small town that never seemed to change, she cut through the streets, over a few grassy hills and into the open greenery of the park. She found solitude under a great tree, the bridge in sight with the small lake was lit by morning light, but no sunshine. The morning was dreary, edging on cloudy with brief patches of rain sprinkling away park-goers. Sarah was alone... But not truly alone.

"Hoggle..." She curled her arms around her arched knees and leaned her chin on their hard tops. "I need you."

The dwarf came from around the tree she was sitting against, blue eyes concerned, wrinkled hands curling and uncurling in worry. He brought with him the simple scents of her younger days, a dusty smell of trees and rain. On his wrist, an elastic string of plastic beads, and at his hip a small sack of pretty jewels rested.

"Sarah?" She snatched him into a hug and finally let tears she was holding fall. On his bony shoulder she cried until she was spent of sorrows and her heart had turned from sadness to anger.

"What does she mean to come back now?" Sarah fumed. Hoggle watched her from his spot on the grass. He had given her a little handkerchief to wipe her swollen eyes. "It has been years since she even called. I mean, years! I was thirteen the last time I heard from her, and now I'm turning eighteen in less than a month!"

Hoggle looked as if he was about to speak but the raging girl kept going.

"Four years of my life! Four years, the most significant years, I think. I am no longer going to be a child; she can't expect to drop in on my life whenever she wants to." Her head dropped into her hands. "It's been so lonely. I'm still not sure what the Labyrinth was meant to teach me. I gave up on some things, tried to make friends... But god," Sarah knew she wasn't making sense. "Why did she have to come back here?" She looked up.

She was alone.

"Damn."

"Sarah?"

Sarah's heavy head lurched to the side to see her mother, kneeling beside her. She realized that Hoggle must have vanished at Linda's approach.

"Did you hear what I said?" She spat. Linda flinched, but kept her ground.

"Please listen to me, Sarah-dear. I need you to come with me..."

"Why?"

"It's different."

"No, it's not." Sarah grumbled. "And I'm not your Sarah-dear."

"You are acting a little immature." Linda's voice was low, her attempt Sarah thought, at seeming motherly

The time for disciplining was over for Sarah, graduated from high-school and college loomed brightly on her horizon. A scholarship for her skills in creative writing promised low debts when her education was complete. She was ready. Comfortable in her life here, heading toward her dreams, she did not feel the need to allow Linda in her life.

"You are just acting," Sarah answered. "You never wanted to be _just_ my mom. So why would I want to come with you now?"

"I had dreams, Sarah. But I should not have taken them. I have come back for you! I have given up everything I had to find you... You need to come with me."

Sarah finally looked her mother in the eyes, mirrors to her own, coated in left over wetness from her tears. She disliked how similar the two of them were.

"You have no power over my life anymore, Mom." She said. She stood, limbs aching from sitting hunched and shook her head down at her mother.

"Damnit Sarah!" Linda's arms went up in frustration. "I'll never get you out of here now!"

"What?" Sarah caught sight of something pale and gold floating down from the sky. A great cloud of tan cloth, encircled by strips of shining material and there stood her old adversary. His face broke out into a crooked smile, sharp teeth glinting.

"Hello Sarah," He said.

The young girl's heart beat in her ears.

His odd eyes moved to her mother, still on her knees reaching for her daughter.

"You have been given a chance. You have lost, Linda." He said. "It was pretty pathetic."

"You only gave me an hour!" Sarah's mother pleaded. She caught hold of Sarah's leg and used it to hoist herself up. She took Sarah into her arms. "Please, let me take her home."

"She has eaten fae food, lived in our world and grown into custom with our air." Jareth seemed a little sad when his eyes took Sarah's, but she could see the glow of happiness that rested there as well. "She would die if she were to return."

"I have fought my way to find her. Why of all others must I remember her?" Linda's touch felt wooden, her words were making Sarah worry.

"It is your punishment." Jareth held out his hand. "You may reclaim your career and lover, which you gave up for her."

In his hands a familiar crystal sat.

"Mom?"

Sarah felt her mother's hands drop away from her. She was not surprised. And when Linda claimed the crystal and gave Sarah one last awkward glance Sarah was not surprised that it was silent. No apologies, no tears. She may have given up everything to find her, but in the end her mother was still the Linda Sarah knew. Selfish.

"You hardly tried!" Sarah screamed.

Jareth touched Linda's shoulder and the woman vanished.

With her fell away the illusion Sarah had known for four years. Around her a great darkness, filled with scattered fragments of the illusion: her clothes, a book, a doll's hand, torn at the wrist.

She faced the Goblin King. He smiled at her, his eyes slowly becoming the only thing she could see as the world began to fade.

* * *

Linda felt the world behind her break apart, that hot wind from before was gone and she finally felt cool and calm. She could feel the king's hand on her shoulder even after she arrived back in her apartment. The crystal in her hands shattered and the cupboards were full, her wallet on the coffee table fattened and the door bell was ringing and Jeremy's voice called out apologies from the other side. Everything was returned.

She turned around only once to glance back into the fading world behind her. She could see the Goblin King standing over the limp body of her very own look alike, her Sarah. With a sad smile on her face she turned away for good, finally free of all ties to that wretched world below. She could feel the magic slipping away from her, suddenly aware of how heavy its constant presence was. Now gone the world was calm at last.

Wiping her hands off on her skirt, she skipped like a school girl to the front door and opened it with a smile on her lips and a giggle waiting to burst happily from her throat.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah watched the little trinkets of her life float past her face. Toys and books brushed her cheeks and hair as if they were alive, seeking to comfort her. She sat on her butt in the cool darkness that overcame her world at the absence of her mother. She awoke alone, cold and feeling like she had been crying for ages. Around her the pieces of her world remained, fading in and out of the darkness, touching her and vanishing, reappearing like they flew through an invisible current and crashed against a wall somewhere else in the darkness to come back to her. She could only see their shapes in the dark, as her eyes grew accustomed.

Her mind tried to piece together the events that had occurred. That morning she had woken up normal, by her standards. A ghost, a faraway person had been in her kitchen, invading her world and then everything had come apart. She recalled things she had seen in the past four years, faces that seemed to keep cropping up, the same faces. The Goblin King was not very creative when it came to fabricating her world.

Sophomore year she had kept bumping into a red-haired woman everywhere she went: the mall, the super-market, the park; she was always around. Sarah finally realized where she first saw the woman: the ball. She was one of the dancers in the ball. At the memory her mouth tasted like peach. She tried to recall more hiccups in the fabrication but her head started aching and she gave up.

"I have to get out of here." She mumbled. In the creeping shadows she was able to stand and she toed the ground around her, searching for possible dips. Edging slowly, arms outstretched she was able to find a wall. A little huddle of toys, books and clothes bunched around her ankles, tripping her into the wall. Using the wall to guide her she tripped and tumbled over the toys, eventually giving up and going down on her hands and knees.

_I feel ridiculous_, she thought. She dragged herself around the perimeter of the room, pushing junk out of the way. She almost screamed when her hand came down on a doll's head, real hair made her suddenly imagine her brother's curls. She had to fumble the doll head with her hands to prove to herself that it wasn't Toby, but she was still unnerved when she discarded it.

It was when her crawling returned her to the doll's head that she began to panic. From what she could discern the room had no door, no opening to break through. She sat down and pushed the head away, listening to it roll and settle on the other side of the room.

"Hoggle?" She hoped he had been real. "I need you."

There was a little glow in the dark and then the blackness was even heavier.

"What the… Where am I?" Hoggle's voice was a foot away from Sarah.

"Hoggle!" Sarah crashed into him, misjudging the distance between them. Her dwarf friend made a horrible grumble before he realized where he was.

"The illusion…" He said gently. _He knew?_

"My mother was apparently trying to reach me. I guess I failed the test." Sarah came to sit on her knees before the lump in the dark that was her friend.

"You weren't the one being tested."

"What happened? I'm so confused..." Sarah leaned on his shoulder. "Tell me?"

She felt him shudder and he reached a lumpy hand up to pat her head kindly. "You got to the center, Sarah. But you never entirely _solved_ the Labyrinth. You never found your way out."

She inhaled deeply. "Toby?"

"The king returned him. You did what you needed to to free him."

"I don't understand. Has it really been four _years_?" Her voice was swallowed up in a little scream by the time her sentence was finished.

"It will be even longer if you take anymore time prattling away."

The voice made dwarf and girl startle and scramble to grab each other in the dark. A snap was followed by light, blinding Sarah temporarily. She began to make out the figure of the king, leather clad and confidently grinning down at her. Hoggle at her side was rolling his eyes.

"You can't just let us talk?" He snapped, surprising Sarah. The king, it looked, was surprised as well.

"Higgle," He began.

"Hogwart."

"Hoggle!" He gave Sarah a spiteful look, but the girl didn't see it. She was wholly distracted by the light radiating from the door behind the king. It had caught her attention and now diverted her from Jareth and Hoggle. She came back into focus on what the king was saying quickly, aware that he had noticed her wandering eyes.

"… Your mother was the one being tested." He was said. "She has failed in her quest to revive you from your entrapment." He said. The same doll head that had disturbed her minutes ago rolled past Jareth's boot and he kicked it away. Sarah could have sworn it let out a little grunt in pained surprise.

"I never left?" Sarah drew her knees in to settle her chin on their tops. Fetal position it seemed was the sitting choice of the day.

The idea still had not really hit her; the four years she had lived were a lie. Her best friends, not real, her relationship with Karen, nothing.

Jareth shook his head, smiling. "I thought it rather stupid of your really. You never questioned that I sent you home."

"I assumed…" She rubbed sweat from her forehead, her hand quaking slightly.

"Well, now that you know where you are…" The king kneeled down to be in level with her. His wild eyes looked darker than she remembered. "Shall you leave your prison? Your company is much desired by the Labyrinth folk."

She searched for malice in his voice and found only gentleness. He seemed to be a brighter Jareth then his past persona. Dark as his eyes might be, she was calm. His eyes were warm, though blue, they seemed engulfed in flame, maybe that was the way magic looked in an iris. She could see the one eye, with the swollen pupil, the black hole pulsing gently. Her hand itched to move, to touch his face. She wondered if the skin of his eyelid was as soft as it looked.

"Sarah, snap out of it!" Hoggle gave the back of her head such a hard smack the girl surged forward and knocked into the Goblin King. His nose was smashed into her cheekbone and the pain of it re-awoke in her the suspicion of him.

"What…" She shook her head. "You were making me forget again!" She yelled.

The Goblin King was rubbing his nose, and her words made his dark eyes glint, like the flames were leaping out to snatch away her words.

"You were learning to trust me." He said and smiled sheepishly. She had never known the king to look sheepish. The façade was irritating.

"Sarah, don't mind this bastard." Hoggle said.

"I need some things explained to me!" Sarah was trying not to shout but speaking calmly didn't feel like an option. She knew her shrill shrieking was making both dwarf and king flinch but she was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She was grasping sanity fiercely but she was not sure of how long her grip might last.

"Might we leave this filthy chamber?" The king stood. Sarah eyed his leather clad back when he turned to leave. She took Hoggle's wrinkling hand and followed.

She had anticipated walking out into one of the underground labyrinth tunnels, similar to the first time she exited an oubliette, but she was met with the stairs she had taken four years ago to enter the Escher room. The king led her and Hoggle down these stairs and into the empty throne room. Sarah glanced back behind into the dark chamber where a doll's head, a book and a bundle of yarn sat by the frame. They sank back into the darkness as Sarah walked away. She squeezed Hoggle's hand in her unease.

The king took a seat in his throne, looking as grand and ridiculous as he always did. He smiled at her and Sarah unflinching gave him a sarcastic smile back.

"Are you going to tell me what you've done?" Hoggle let go of her hand as she spoke and moved back a few cautious steps.

"I have done nothing," The king said, still grinning. "You never left the Labyrinth."

"You made it seem like I did!" She yelled. "I thought I was home, but it was just like that fake world you made." She was referencing the peach-induced ballroom, but Jareth looked confused.

She realized too late after offering him a sympathetic eye that he was mocking her. His eye twitched and a devious smile broke out.

"I hate you." She said. Her heart was beating with the coming wave of terrified emotions. She was coming to the realization again that her entire life was a lie.

"You do not hate me." He said, pretending to look hurt.

"I wanted to tell you," Hoggle's voice behind her was weak. "But I was a coward again…"

"Yes, coward!" The king laughed. "At least she was alive, Hogbrain. Had she gone home she would have suffocated. It was her mother who ruined the entire deal."

"She tried." Hoggle offered.

Sarah reached to wipe tears off of her face. They fell now in plentiful streams. She was exhausted and growing warm. Her head was bleary and she barely registered the next words of the Goblin King.

"Regardless," He said. "It was the best way to cage my queen until she was of a proper age."

Sarah coughed and it was half a laugh. "Queen…" She spat. "You are kidding yourself."

"Sarah, I never kid anyone." He smiled and the girl felt small. Hoggle cringed and took her hand.

"I'm sorry, friend." He said. "I'm sorry."


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah had gathered herself enough to recall what had happened. She felt meek in a chamber, a dark place Hoggle had dragged her to when her body went into some bizarre form of shock. She had only opened her eyes a little, enough to watch Hoggle descend away into the darkness before she fumbled to the bed. The place seemed familiar but she supposed the angles of the walls and frame of the bed were just so _Labyrinth_ that she convinced herself that that was the only quality of familiarity. The bed was built with a square frame and a canopy for a princess. It bore the same colors of her childhood room, but the shapes were out of place and crude. Still the creak of the mattress when she collapsed on the soft blankets was not a haunting groan. It seemed to echo the sigh of a lover upon embrace. She spent an undiscernible amount of time laying there; face down wringing the blankets in her fingers. When she finally pulled herself up from the bed, hair damp and tangled, eyes bleary from tears she looked around the room.

What first caught her eye was the ceiling, which vanished up and away from her in a cluster of glowing crystals. It was these crystals which lit the room, and they pulsed like a heart, their light growing stronger and softer with every beat. Sarah clambered to the edge of the bed to get a better view at them, hidden as she had been under the canopy of her bed. She realized that someone had changed her into a pink ridiculous nightgown, magically, she assumed, while she was crying maniacally on the bed. She lamented the abundance of lace and returned to her observation of the room after using the bottom of the gown to wipe her dripping nose. Dark as it was, the light of the beautiful crystals was enough to show her a delicate looking vanity covered in bottles and combs and ornaments. To the left of this were a wardrobe and a small table set with chairs. On this table was a tiny painted tea set. The other side of the room bore no evidence of the door she didn't remember using, but to her chagrin there was a disturbing piece of furniture rocking in the dark. Sarah inhaled shakily She moved to approach it.

"Oh god…" She croaked. It was an infant's cradle.

Her head felt numb and her hard heart rumbled in a disheveled pulse. She had only just registered the difference between reality and dreams, and now she was hit with an onslaught of whatever the hell this room was supposed to mean. She moved out of the bed, stepping delicately under the glow of the crystals to reach the cradle. Within it lay a remnant of her own childhood; a tattered blanket. Hands shaking she reached into the little bed and grasped the material, the springy soft fabric of the knitted memory cool to her touch. Her eyes caught something at the corner of her eye: a crystal falling slowly. She dropped her blanket back into the cradle to take the levitating orb in her hands.

"I wish…" At first it sounded like her own voice but the image in the crystal was someone different, sporting hair as dark as her own.

Sarah had the horrible sensation that she was falling when the crystal slipped free of her hands and she was spiraling forward. She crashed into the floor and let out a loud displeased groan. Her nose burned and she rubbed it furiously as she pulled herself up from the soft carpet. She had been transported.

The world was dim, lit by a soft lamp on a bedside table behind her. To her right a bed, blankets mussed and pillows slept on. The room was familiar, her mother's old bedroom in the home she had lived in after leaving her father. Sarah's own cradle rested on the other side of the room, that soft blanket sitting on the floor in a crumpled heap. The girl moved forward slightly, but stopped when a child's wail made her freeze.

"Sarah!" Her mother came into view, still young; long hair in a disheveled ponytail, thin, muscled arms protruding from a baggy stained t-shirt.

"Mom…" Sarah was cut off by the hand of the Goblin King, hard against her shoulder. She looked up and met his angry frown with confused eyes. Her mother at the other side of the room took a wailing child out from the cradle.

"Get up." The king commanded. Sarah was already on her way to stand, using the bed to hoist herself up on her wobbly legs.

"Whose memory is this?" Sarah whispered. "What's…?"

The king ignored her and stepped briskly toward Linda. As soon as he stepped away from Sarah his appearance changed, his dark leathers turned to bright blues, his hair was shorter, his voice younger when he spoke:

"The beginning of a wish I heard. From none other than spoiled little Linda." His voice was ice, but a smile was set in a smug line on his face.

"Oh," Linda sighed, a relieved smile on her face. "Thank God it's you! I'm glad you heard." She thrust the dark haired baby in her arms toward him, which signaled cries of protest from the little girl. Sarah winced in her place on the other side of the room.

"Take her please!"

Linda gave the king no time to protest and handed over the child like a sack of potatoes, a grunt of relief when the exchanged was made.

"What is this?" He fumbled with the tiny thrashing creature in his arms. When the little girl noticed who she was now in the arms of she stilled, a frown furrowing the soft skin between her brows. Her green eyes were fierce and she stared at him, as if to say _you are not Mommy_.

"Sarah." Linda said, rubbing her arms and settling down in the rocking chair near the cradle.

"What's a Sarah?" The king shifted the baby awkwardly and frowned back at her.

"I am done; I just can't do it anymore!" She whined. She rubbed her arms and stared at the floor.

"What do you want me to do?" The king's mouth was curled in a grotesque line, his eyes darting back and forth between Linda and the child.

"Take her, she yours." She spat. Try as the king might she would not receive his dark stare.

"You will regret this," He shifted the baby in his arms, and she grabbed a little skull ornament on his coat and tried to pull it free.

Linda rolled her eyes, but they sparkled wetly.

"Fine." Her arms, two sticks, came shooting out to take her back, but hung empty in the air.

"Linda…" The Goblin King refused release of her child. "Only take her if you want her."

"You know I don't," Her arms looked ready to drop.

"Is there anywhere else she can go?" He sounded impatient. The little Sarah in his arms abandoned the skull brooch in his coat in favor of the pendant around his neck. She grasped in firmly in her round hands.

"Nowhere." Linda said. Her hands finally fell away, fingers curling into tight fists and landing in her lap. "So, just take her."

The baby made the king startle slightly, an inward startle accompanied by a frown, when she placed a hand on his cheek.

"At least she likes you," The woman laughed bitterly. "Figures."

"You know I must give something in return for this exchange." The baby smacked playfully at his face. "Hush," He said to her.

His word was swollen with a little pinch of magic and it blew gently onto the baby's face.

Sarah, the elder, frozen in her place, invisible to all that were there could feel that breath of magic from his word. Hush, like a wave of gentle water blossoming across her face. It smelled like peaches

Sarah, the baby, let her eyelids droop and she sagged against the king's chest.

"What do you want, Linda?" His gaze never left the sleeping child. There was a tension around his eyes, something warm and dark.

Linda's peel of laughter made this look grow cold and he turned his face back to her.

"I want to be a famous actress," She joked, her voice raw. "I want a wonderfully handsome husband to act with me. And no children." Her voice wavered near the end, and she looked up at her sleeping daughter.

"Done." Jareth turned away.

"Wait…" She laughed nervously. "I didn't mean it!"

Sarah realized her mother was not calling for want of her daughter, but for want of a different wish. She had only been joking.

The image faded away in time for Sarah to watch the king vanish with the smaller version of herself in his hands.

The crystal fell from her hands and the room was dark again. She watched the small orb tumble downward and crash against the hard ground, splitting into a thousand pieces.

"Well, hello there." Jareth's voice was littered with ice. But when Sarah found him lounging on the bed there was a smile on his face, one she knew well. She pulled herself up, using the cradle to support her aching legs.

"Nothing makes sense." She muttered. He nodded with understanding, but the look on his face made her feel like he was disappointed in her.

Though she had just stood she collapsed again to the floor, thoroughly exhausted.

"How shall I tell you?" He said. His voice was compelling, something like dream, a voice familiar as her own. She wanted to move closer, to take the comfort he might give. But his wickedness kept her rooted to the ground. After all, she remembered, she had been prisoner for four years.

Was it longer? How much of her life was illusion?

"As bluntly as possible." She wanted the truth. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, drawing wetness.

"Yes, well your mother grew to like her payment for you. But while raising you was extraordinarily enjoyable for me…"

Sarah snorted.

"I realized that your mother lied to me." He sat up in the bed and gave the room a dazed look. "Your father of course wanted you. Having no knowledge of him I had not wiped his memory."

Sarah gazed at the cradle.

"Since someone had a claim on you, a blood relation, I had to return you."

"Oh," She could not hide her relief that her life was mostly reality.

"You were with me only for a short time, but I grew to enjoy your company. I took liberties. I sought out your future and saw how well you would grow. I had a great deal in mind for your upbringing." He almost looked kind. Sarah imagined how the room might have looked lit by daylight, filled with child's laughter. Had he slept here during her stay? Vigilant over her cradle watching her future in a crystal?

"You're disgusting." She said.

"There was magic enough in you to become an Immortal. You were to be my companion. I might have let you be queen. I had planned to make you so much more than you are now." Bitterness hung in the air like a sour smell.

Sarah was fighting the urge to laugh, everything was sounding as ridiculous as a fever dream. She had never been drunk, but she was guessing it might feel like this; disjointed and silly.

Jareth continued, "I returned you to your father under the guise of a social worker. Then once you were safe with him… You cried for me bitterly… I went to your mother. Her punishment for lying would be that she would never forget you. Your loss would always follow her."

"Worthy punishment." Sarah recalled phone calls from Linda, pleading for assurances that she was happy. Her visits were brief and cold, as if she was being timed. Sarah thought that Jareth may have been the master behind the internal clock her mother ran by, always ticking and warning her.

"I felt the loss." He said. He stood, his clothes were uncharacteristically baggy dark robes, and they sagged to the floor around him.

His hands, she saw, were bare and the skin was blue in the glow of the crystals.

"What do you mean?" She looked again about the room, searching in her mind for the memories. She came up with nothing but blurred thoughts and hopes that she could know what she once was a part of.

"You were perfect. Spirit and wit. Magic from old blood that has carried in your family for many years. You may be watered down my mortality, but I could see the possibilities of you…"

She was standing before he could speak another word and running to him where he stood. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she had finally lost it all. This sick twisted man… Of all things this had to be her life!

She was twisted herself, as gnarled as he was in her own human way. Her fists fell down on him in a fury, but the air was all she touched. She stumbled forward with her own force, smashing herself into the mattress of the bed.

"I finally found a way to keep you." His voice was everywhere.

She grew warm with fear when his breath came hot on her neck. Ripping herself free of the bed she spun violently to search the room with her fists, swinging wildly.

There was no royal nose to punch.

Calmed by her own fatigue she stilled, a rumpled mess in the middle of the room. He came up behind her, his warmth overpowering and making her dizzy. He never touched her but she could feel him, a ghost moving behind her, pressing her boundaries but never indulging in her skin. His hand came forward, around her head, holding a crystal. It was a distraction from her anger, she knew, but still like the fire to a moth, she was drawn to it. Her finger came forward and touch it.

Slowly it took a new shape, the curves replaced by hard lines, folding out to produce a new object entirely: a small music box.

"Remember." He commanded. The little box was blue, shining golden flowers to decorate it sat in well placed patterns. He flipped it open with his thumb, and soft music spilled free, a gentle melody. Her lullaby. His spare arm wrapped around her to find her hand, a fist, and brought it to hold the box. His hand only touched her sleeve, flesh never met flesh.

"I played the role of caregiver, then the villain. I did everything for you that you needed. You were meant to be mine. When can I play the role of lover?"

"I wasn't meant for anything."

"Perhaps I am too far in love to know better." He said back, his voice dangerously low.

Sarah snapped herself out of her daze.

"You? Love?" She smirked and flipped the music box closed. "You would only ever know how to love yourself.

He laughed.

"Won't you give me a chance to set myself free?" She begged. Try as she might to face him, he was one set ahead and always out of her sight. "Please?"

The whine in her voice was so evident that she blushed in embarrassment.

"Do you really want to leave?" He asked. For once he sounded serious.

She hesitated. Hadn't he said something before that she would not survive the human world anymore?

"Where could I go?" She said. Looking down at the music box she pondered her future, once a happy dream, now wasted and full of questions.

"You're asking the King of Dreams." He said. "I could take you anywhere."

"Except where I wish to be most." She said, more to herself. "What has happened since I left?"

"A great deal, but it is mostly trivial." The king sounded bored.

"Show me."

Finally his face came into view, the glow of the crystals setting his eyes aflame with blue light. One pupil, engorged, pulsed while the other, small, was focused and unmoving.

"Say your right words."


	4. Chapter 4

She was obsessive about the crystals. Since Aboveground air was poison to her lungs Jareth complied to her wishes by gifting her with crystals, _ever-watchers_ he called them. Their eyes were fixed forever on the life of Toby. The boy's condition was to her satisfaction, mostly. He was different from the young boy from the illusion, his colors seemed dimmer, his smiles less expressive and his overall appearance not quite as… beautiful. The king had certainly made the fake Toby a beauty with likeable charms, and to Sarah's disappointment the real Toby was dull.

But still, she was transfixed on them, never leaving her bed except when Hoggle visited, and spending all her time watching. She found too that if she wished it the crystals could transport their images backwards and she could watch Toby's entire life from Labyrinth and beyond. It occupied her time, gave her something to focus on. She felt like cracking most of the time, unsteadied in reality. Visits from the king did not help much either.

At best he was not pushing her too far.

"Must you stare at those damn rocks for all of your waking hours?" He grumbled one evening. He was sitting by the fireplace in a cushioned chair. It was a new fixture in the room, taking the place of the rocking chair. The cradle from hell was replaced with a small bookcase, overstuffed with books from Sarah's time in the illusion. She had not verbally requested their presence, but had wondered of them one evening and they had appeared the next morning.

"If you're bored then leave." She was bored herself.

"Impossible woman."

"Pathetic man."

"Do you intend to never leave that bed?"

She rolled her eyes. He asked very uninventive questions. Even though his scent radiated over towards where she slumped on her pillows, heady and spicy, she was done with him. His charm had its limits and she was learning quickly how to quell her own heart by reminding herself that he was just the product of her own wants. Sort of.

"I like this bed."

"You are not that stupid," He snorted. "How about a trade?"

"I'm listening," She actually looked at him.

Regretful of that choice she directed her eyes elsewhere. How long had it been since she last peeked? She concentrated: Toby had lived five human weeks, during which she only slept three times for seven hour increments. Jareth visited every fourth hour of her wakefulness. She had been awake four times. She needed a shower.

She recalled looking at him very hard after he gifted her the _ever-watchers_. His own odd eyes had looked back into hers for a swift moment. During this brief connection she could have sworn a delicate light had twinkled in his irises, but a smirk on his face made her turn away before further observation could be made of the strange light. That was three nights ago, and since then she had not looked at him when he visited.

"I give you one question," He said. "And you attend dinner with me outside of this room."

"I did not think I had the choice to leave this room." She said. "No doors."

"I would have thought the Labyrinth would have taught you more about observing your surroundings." He said. "Do we have a deal?"

"Can it include a shower?"

"With all my heart," He said. "I wish you to bathe."

"How did you know my mother?" She sat up in bed, dropping the _ever-watchers_ to the blankets and combing back her sweaty hair with her hands.

From his chair he laughed, and looked away. With his dangerous eyes avoiding the touch of gaze Sarah was able to observe him. It seemed that every time she looked at him he seemed unfamiliar to her, as though his memory would always be slightly blurred of him once he was no longer right in front of her. Like a dream. In the moment you could recall the details and see all the beauty, but waking made it difficult to know for certain whether or not that dream-object was blue or orange.

"You could say I have known your family for a number of years," He said, turning back to her. "I have known them since they lived in England."

"I'm not even a quarter English."

"It's been a long time." He said. "But you were worth the wait."

Sarah looked away again. She hated the way he talked sometimes, as though she was his prize. But what had he done to earn it?

"I did plenty." He sounded offended.

"Get out of my head!" She whipped a pillow across the room.

"Certainly," He stood, straightening his coat. "I shall see you at dinner… If you can find your way."

She meant to watch him leave in hopes of discovering the location of the door but a flash of light in front of her distracted her. With a pop the wall cracked open and a bathing room appeared. She was thrilled and upset for him over looking that for so long. At least, she smiled, there was a toilet.

That and a closet had appeared an hour after she first began watching Toby. The closet doors creaked quietly in the gentle light of the chamber and then flew open to get her attention. Inside rows of gowns and cabinets of accessories and garments sent Sarah's head spinning. Another door appeared, with that same distinct pop, when she was exploring the closet. She scurried outside to find a small toilet sitting in a narrow room. But now shower or bath.

Either way she was pleased it was here now. She stripped down even before the water was on, eager to be free of her own scent and the reeking nightgown. Bathing quickly, however luxurious the water felt on her skin, or how dizzy with delight the smell of soap made her, she was a great deal more eager to be free of the bedroom. Once clean she scurried to the closet, still dripping wet, happy to leave a water mark on Jareth's carpet. It may have been her room but she had the sinking feeling that everything here belonged to Jareth, so abusing it was not a difficult thing. Of the clothes in the closet she picked a pretty little gown to wear with tight sleeves to her wrists. It was a bright red. She ignored the shoes that matched. To keep her back from being uncomfortably wet she tied her hair up into a pretty bun.

This bun was altered by invisible hands when she sat down at the vanity to search through some of the perfumes. After she had sprayed a pinch of her favorite scent across her chest she observed the new hairstyle. It was pretty: a braided mass looped around a braided bun while some tiny ringlets hung free. She liked it, but tore free the ruby-tipped pins that gave it an air of richness. She left these on the vanity.

Happily cleaned, dressed and feeling worlds better she scooped up an _ever-watcher_. Holding it firmly in her hand she looked about the room, hunting for a way out. Each wall was the same, rolling into one another with no bends or variance in shadow. The light from above was bright and Sarah was thoroughly frustrated. She finally took to walking around the room's perimeter, hand extended to the wall, feeling for gives or breaks.

She fell and crashed to the floor almost before she could realize what happened. Laughing she pulled herself up.

"You're kidding!" She hollered. The wall had been an illusion. Or at least this part was. She recalled her time in the Labyrinth, trying to find the turns and corners.

_"You try walking through it; you'll see what I mean!"_ The lovely worm!

She straightened and moved forward, finding a turn leading to a small hallway. It had been well hidden by that same trick she had solved years before. In this dark hallway she could see something she had been wishing to see for days: a door. Thankfully it had no guards to tell riddles, or locks to keep her in. Proudly, she turned its small knob and opened it.

* * *

The Goblin King smiled. She had found her way out. It had taken a great deal longer than he had originally supposed it would, but there she was, on her way to him. He laughed when she took a swift step out the door and was nearly killed by the goblin sleeping there. She had caught herself before falling, but had certainly terrified the spirits out of the napping goblin. He turned away from his _ever-watcher_ as she struggled to comfort the screaming creature. He returned the seat he had left and sat down, wary of the presence lurking there.

That morning had been a difficult one. He had woken from a dreamless sleep to find a familiar haunting face pressing on the glass of his window. The features were sharp, from the hard-tipped nose to the hollowness around the miss-matched eyes. These eyes were like his own but a shade darker. Instead of a fine halo of golden hair to frame this twin's face, dark, thick feathers and strands of beads crowned the skull. A sharp-nailed finger tapped the glass.

Jareth did not rise to open it, but instead nodded to allow the being entry. The window melted away and the creature gracefully filled the space left by the disappearance. If a third set of eyes had been watching they might have seen what looked like a pair of twins, different only by coloring. Where Jareth was golden, from flesh to hair, and blue in the eyes, this man was black. His feathered hair was thicker and held down by some select strands that were beaded. His skin was pale, like the white of a burning star, yet it did not shine. Accompanying this skin, like ghost flesh, was the dark hair and dark eyes, black like coal, with white pupils. All this the third observer could see, and they might notice how differently these twins dressed. The golden twin had his choice of a vast wardrobe, all colors and fabrics. That morning he wore naught but his bed sheets. The twin on the window ledge had not the need for much clothing; hanging upon him was a liquid-like robe, which seemed to swim across his flesh in dark thin patterns. It did little to hide the thick muscles of his body, or the lumpy ridges of scars that crisscrossed his skin in awkward patterns.

It was the golden king of the goblins that spoke first. "Jarah." He said, nodding toward the black figure.

In response this dark man only smiled. To any mortal this smile would be frightening, however un-malicious its intent, it was just too long, the teeth expose too sharp to allude to any kind of happiness.

"Jareth," he nodded back, the movement sending his black robes rippling over his body.

Jareth did not know what to say back, he had not seen his brother in so long a time. What could Jarah possibly want now?

"How are you fairing, little brother?" Jarah settled down on the window ledge, long legs that ended in clawed toes creaking with the movement.

"Quite well. And you?" Jareth made every effort to appear unamused with him, standing up and shedding his sheets from his body.

"Your scars look quite infected today." Jarah laughed. Jareth turned away to dress, the entire process taking only a breath to perform.

"What is it you want?" He asked. His patience had always been short. With Jarah around it was non-existent.

"I am simply here to see you, dear brother." Jarah's voice was gentle.

Jareth was not so certain. The rest of the morning played out as any morning might with Jarah around. No goblin or Labyrinth folk appeared to serve the king, or pester. They could smell Jarah there and not a one of them would tolerate him.

The king himself listened to Jarah's prattle, stepped carefully around the probing questions and almost ignored his brother.

"I have heard your little pet is awake from her dreams." Jarah smiled.

"Yes," Jareth answered. "She is somewhere hating me right now."

"Want me to maggot her brain up a bit?" Jarah sounded too eager.

This eagerness was worrisome. Jareth knew how much his brother delighting in 'maggoting' human brains. But Sarah was his toy, his human. Jarah was not to touch her. Keen on not causing upset in his older brother though Jareth never outright said he could not. Denying the King of Nightmares his pleasure was a dangerous thing to do. He knew their mother still suffered from once punishing Jarah for plaguing a village of humans with wakeful nightmares.

Jarah jabbed at Jareth with a sharp nail. "She'd be no worse off than she already is."

"I have hardly had my fun with the girl and now you are already trying to spoil her." Jareth tried to sound teasing.

"It was worth asking, she is a special kind of dreamer." Jarah smiled that dreadfully sick looking grin again before his dark eyes unfocused and Jareth knew he was already worlds away in someone's sleeping mind.

"Best be off little brother," Jarah said. His large hand came out once more to touch Jareth's chest through the leather vest. The king's heart momentarily grew cold. But when Jarah finally vanished for good the coldness left with him.

Jarah's essence was still there though, following him about the castle and into every room he ventured. Even to Sarah's chamber, smelling a little rottenly of her unwashed body, when he made his daily visit. Troubled as he may be with his brother now, he pushed that worry to the back of his mind. He had a dinner to eat, with his little favorite Sarah. He peeked again into his glowing _ever-watcher_ to find her already at the dining table, the dwarf… Higgle? at her side and making her smile.

Well, that simply would not do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** I chose the name _Jarah _and invented his character after looking up the name _Jareth_ online. Interestingly_ Jarah_ is an older variant of the name, and is of a Hebrew origin. _Jareth_ itself is considered American by origin (sometimes it is sourced as Welsh) but the names are linked to one and other.

Also, I recently went back and did some editing of the older chapters in this story. There are no major plot changes, but content has been added to the first chapter that will make Chapter 6 (upcoming) a little confusing. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Sarah noticed that the king had a way of ruining a happy moment. When he sauntered into the brightly lit dining hall, sporting a new outfit that matched her own, he gave Hoggle such a dirty look that the poor dwarf cringed. She, however, was not about to allow him any delight in damaging her nerves. She took Hoggle's hand to prevent his escape and tried to rekindle the conversation that Jareth had just killed.

"You are doing well though?" She asked him. Successful in catching his eye she smiled kindly at him, ignoring the king who came to haunt at her shoulder. She was better than she had been in days, free of her chamber, here with her friend at her side. She worried that if she looked too hard at the king she might start eating her hair.

"I'm fine," Hoggle tried to smile back, but the king interrupted his attempt.

"Well, I agreed to a dinner with you, Sarah." His voice was so proud, it made her feel sick. "Not the Prince of the Land of Stench."

She wrinkled her nose in despair at the memories of the Bog, but let go of Hoggle's hand. Turning to face the table she focused her fidgeting hands on smoothing her dress.

The king took a seat at the other end of the dining table. Sarah let her eyes rise to look at him. As soon as she was focused on his form she was overcome by that same flash of beauty. It was true that seeing him was like seeing him the first time, the dream disguise over him was so strong. He smirked as she watched him and she realized her mouth was parted in awe and her eyes half-lidded.

"Why do you do that?" She said and tried to look away. But like a magnet her eyes found their way back to the sharp bones, tan skin and eyes decorated in a harsh red make-up.

"Do what?"

"Make me forget what you look like… It is irritating." Sarah looked downward as she spoke for her nose was filled with a sudden happy aroma. At her place a dish full of food had appeared; a slice of meat, beef she thought, a lush pile of vegetables, all deep ripe colors, and white potatoes. A smaller dish on the side held mixed fruit, honey dew melon and bright slices of peach. A goblet of red liquid appeared as well, with a smaller companion filled with water.

"Whatever you say I am doing, precious, is not my choice." The king's voice was distracting but hunger overwhelmed her. Had she eaten that day? She could not remember… What was today anyway?

She was calculating this around a spoonful of warm potatoes, the sweetness of their flavor bringing tears to her eyes. She looked up at the king to find him mirroring her, spooning potatoes and eating quietly. Even with all his glam and grandeur he looked quite ordinary when he ate. The spoon in his gloved hand clinked against the plate, if she focused she could hear him chewing and swallowing. Trying to think back to her time in the illusion she was curious if Jareth had bothered to make the false people around her make chewing sounds. She tried to remember if her father's Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, but her mind was blank. She had been deeply fooled.

"How do I know you are not a dream now?" She whispered. Carefully putting down her utensil she watched the king's face still and he looked up at her. His eyes bore angry holes into her own, their gaze was so direct, and he drew in a deep, loud breath.

"You never know, precious." His expression seemed genuine, his words mirrored the passion. "I am not the only one capable of creating such fantasies." The seriousness was forcibly dropped from his face and he gave her a tense smile.

"What do you mean?" _Or who?_ She wanted to say.

He shook his head slightly. "Sarah, your only real concern now is pleasing yourself and me. As you may know now your life here is your only option. I'll not ask much of you…"

"Fear you, love you, do as you say?" She spat.

His jaw clenched, but the tense smile remained intact. "Those words were more for your sake than they were my own wish."

"Why did you even say them?"

"I thought it a soothing transition into the Underground." He leaned back in his chair. Both were ignoring their food now.

"But then you trap me here, what kind of transition is that?"

"Don't yell now, love, you'll frighten the Labyrinth."

"Why couldn't you let me go?"

"You were mine to begin with. I earned you."

"I am not something to earn!" She did not know when she had stood up or taken the near ten steps to where the king was sitting. She was clutching her _ever-watcher_ in her hand, rearing it up into the air as though she might throw it at his smiling face. There was saliva at the corners of her mouth and sweat on her face. She had not been this angry in years. Her eyes were hot, as though burning tears might spring forth at any moment, but she was biting her lip to prevent them and blinking furiously. She could not crumble again, she had certainly cried enough.

The Goblin King seemed completely relaxed with her sudden burst of outrage. He watched her quietly, with a look in his eyes that might even be gentle. The fire of the iris seemed to have calmed just when Sarah's own fire truly was kindled.

"Sarah," She gasped a little when he said her name and realized she had been holding her breath. The tears broke free finally and her arm fell limp. She stumbled to the floor and sat, the _ever –watcher_ sliding out of her hand and breaking with a harsh crash on the stony floor. Jareth took her shoulder in his gloved hand.

The king's hand felt like stone.

"Sarah," She closed her eyes. "You must let me tell you something."

"What?" Her voice felt like mud in her mouth.

"What are you most afraid of?"

She turned her head away from him and opened her eyes.

"Whatever it is," He continued. "You must never let it find you. A mortal's fears are like food to Fae and there are some Fae who are begging to make a feast of you."

"Am I your pet?" She muttered. To Sarah it seemed the bright lamps about the hall had dimmed, their bright orange glows had darkened, turned a rusty red and glowed ominously.

"Never a pet," He scoffed. "I am not so filthy." His hand on her shoulder squeezed. She could equate the touch to the grip she would use on Merlin's collar. The touch of prevention from escape.

"So you imprisoned me for what, then?"

"I told you, stupid child."

"I recall something about 'caging your queen,'" She said and tried to shake his hand off.

"You turned out a bit more bitter than I expected," He said and allowed her to pull free of him. "But you are still my Sarah and time will certainly improve your idea of me."

"Why me?"

"You are convenient." He answered.

"Do you love me?" She turned to look at him again, struck by the power of his gaze on her face. She did not understand how he could render such a look that brought such a rush of varied emotions from her, but she knew his being altogether was something she could not yet understand.

"I do." He smiled and this smile was what made him unbelievable. "And in my own world you are the safest. Safer even in the illusion than here. Had your mother not messed it up I may have kept you there long enough for you to live out a happy human life."

"What?" She turned her head back sharply away, hiding an angry flush.

His eyebrow shot up, he was pleased with himself for sparking honest interest in her.

"Yes, it might have been a perfect fairytale, really. You would live out your little mortal life and when you had aged, your children's children had spawn of their own and your doll-husband was dead, you would have made a wish. And then there I would have been, pleased to serve you. From there I would whisk you away to the Labyrinth where you could be queen forever… And not resent me."

"You had that all planned out…"

"Well, when it seemed you were making yourself believe the false world was real I had to come up with some way to appease you. The idea was actually very sweet, even if getting to the result I wanted would have taken so long."

"Sorry Mom ruined your plans." Sarah laughed. It was a sharp, painful giggle.

"I am a better illusionist than I give myself credit for." He puffed up like a red peacock.

Sarah made herself stand. She was finding herself terribly hungry. Taking her seat once more she leaned on one fist and stirred the food around her plate with her spare hand.

The king made a gentle grunt, possibly a dark giggle of his own and stood. "Eat, precious. You need the food. I will leave you in peace for tonight."

She kept her eyes on her plate when she heard his approach. Tensing when he leaned down next to her, her heart began to race when, for a moment, his breath washed across her face and his lips left a cool touch on her forehead. His hand placed an _ever-watcher_ on the table beside her plate, but the image inside was not of Toby. Within was the image of something that made her heart flutter happily: Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo, awaiting her in her chamber. The dwarf was sitting on the chair by the fire, the yeti on her bed, most likely leaving a great dent in it for her to roll into later. The little knight was bustling about frantically, climbing the bed posts, the mantel or even Ludo himself.

"A gift." He said softly and turned to leave. His scent, like a ghost, clung to Sarah. She was filled up with some kind of great passion about this, some wild mix of angry and happy, sad and confused.

She looked at his retreating back as he walked to the door, chewing on her lower lip. A frown was etched across her face and a wicked blush made her skin hot. It deepened in color when he turned and looked back at her again.

"Remember what I said Sarah." He whispered gently. "Avoid your fears, least they poison you. You are always safe with me… But not always safe here."

She looked away from him and he was gone when she found herself looking for him again. The room was so silent once she was alone, but the lamps seemed to blossom again and began to burn brightly once more. She finished her meal quickly, finding when she wanted more of something it appeared, and when she wished the greens were less in number she found only one green thing left on her plate.

"I am still mad at you." She mumbled to the air. Yes, always mad.

But beginning to be a little pleased. For three wonderful friends were waiting for her in her chamber, and this could ease even her hard heart.

She could not tell that in this heart there was a gentle infestation occurring. Deep within the folds of her flesh, in the place where the physical met the spiritual, that heart that beat blushes into her cheeks and stirred her passions, there was a tiny blackness settling. She had not placed it there and though Jareth could sense its presence he could not detect it in her mortal body.

When Jareth left, though he stood just outside the door, an invisible nail, so sharp the girl could not feel it, broke into her flesh through her breast to where her heart beat. It left the seedling of darkness there, was gone before anything could be done, and left the mortal girl, unsuspectingly, carrying magic in her heart.

Jarah could have laughed about this, ruining his brother's choice of mate, but it was not something to laugh about yet. This was only the first step in a long road of tiny changes he would make in her.

Jareth had no idea what was coming. Quite frankly, Jarah did not know either.

But that was how he favored it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Linda found herself at that damned door once again. The face of the stone girl, lips curled back and teeth clenching the ring, brought vomit to Linda's mouth. How had she not noticed before how much she looked like Sarah? She knew her daughter lay within, in the putrid fantasy. Why had Jareth put her there? Her mind was a mess._

_ She tore forward and ripped the door open, making the knocker-girl scream and the ring to drop free. The actress paid this no mind, her feet were on fire and she needed to find Sarah. Inside the room was dark, her daughter's toys floated aimlessly at Linda's ankles and Sarah…_

_ A small pale creature lay on the floor in the center of the room. The skin of this thing was white, so void of color that even the darkness could not touch it, so it seemed to shine. But it was stretched over angry, protruding bones. In the face cheek bones stuck out like two sharp moons, the eyes above were like dark stars, sinking back into the head under the shadow of a long bright forehead. The mouth on this face was a hollow hole, into which there lay a blackness that spoke of years of hunger, decades of nothingness. Sharp, jagged teeth poked out of black gums and sprouted up in many different directions, their decay evident from the black and yellow colors that dominated them. To crown the face was a long wiry net of black straw, which grew from the skull in sporadic unclean clumps. _

_ When this creature spotted her it made some sort of strange yelp. A thin hand, whose nails were nearly gone, came out from the mass of body and reached for her._

_ "Mom?" This next yelp was a legible word._

"Baby!"

"Linda?"

"No, baby! No!" She shot upwards. _The creature recoiled and vanished away into the darkness, the white skin melting away, off of black bones._

"Linda!"

Her boyfriend's face was what she saw next, confused with sleep and worry. Linda lay back on her pillows, watching the ceiling in relief and trying to gather her lost breaths.

"Was it the nightmare again?" Jeremy's hand came to comfort her in the dimness, squeezing her own. She could barely feel it.

"Yes."

A month had come and gone before Sarah, in her meek mortal mind, had time to calculate its days. Had her days not been filled with her friends, she was certain, they would have been horrible. Once she had discovered how to come and go from her room she had earned leeway into any room of the castle that she could enter. Not all doors were easy to venture through, she learned, and some locks had no keys.

The days became routine and went something like this: A morning of breakfast tea and sweet fruit with Hoggle, who informed her of the current day's planned activities. One day they had a lovely walk through the upper chambers of the castle, where she had never been and met the Upper Goblins, who resided there. Among them were some of the ugliest chamber maids and little servant-men, all of whom were more talented in destroying the upper chambers than cleaning them. With Sarah and her friends they made a mess of one of the loveliest sitting rooms Sarah had ever seen. It was as though it had been painted in a book and brought to life, with its fine furniture, rose colored lamps and paintings. All of which was happily destroyed within the course of an afternoon.

Lunch for Sarah was usually something small: a roll, or buttered bread, some jellied toast and cold turkey or fish. Her only time alone, and away from her friends, was in the hour before dinner. This was when she would bathe and dress well. She spent most of her daytime hours dressed in jeans and t-shirts, which were provided in her closet when she expressed need for them. However, she would dress in one of the many beautiful princess gowns made for her and select jewelry to match, for dinner. Though no one had ever told her she felt the need to comply with Underground fashion when she went to dinner, for even though the table was now filled with goblins, Hoggle, Ludo, Didymus and any number of Labyrinth folk, the king still sat at the opposite end. And he was never unfashionable.

When she really considered it all she began to realize that she was not unhappy. Perhaps not happy, but not unhappy either. There was a pleasing adventure to be had every day with her friends and a guarantee that Jareth would not say or do anything to her at dinner with the room packed with furry what-nots, and flammable whose-its.

With this in mind, she was greatly nervous, one evening, when she came into the dining hall to find it disturbingly quiet. The Goblin King stood waiting at her seat, which was not unusual for he usually pushed in her seat for her. His attire though was different: a leather suit and coat, vacant of jewels or bedazzlement of any kind. Even his hair was different, pulled back and tied up with a black ribbon. She realized in the back of her mind that she had never seen his forehead before.

"Where are the rest of our dining mates?" She asked, even though she was sure she knew they weren't coming.

"I requested that tonight we would have dinner alone, precious." Was the only reply.

Tucked into her seat she watched, in silence, as he walked to his own place and sat down. Their food appeared and she began to eat, feeling awkward. This silence continued for a long while into the meal until she heard Jareth put his utensils down and clear his throat. She dropped her fork in response.

"Well?" He said, leaning back in his seat.

Sarah blinked in surprise. "What?"

"It has been quite some time, Sarah." He said, folding his hands together. "And I was wondering if you have had enough time to consider what I may be offering you."

"Oh," She slumped. She had been dreading this. The king was always expectant, waiting for her to offer back anything when he gave her something. She did not approve of this give-and-take behavior.

"I wonder," He stood. "If the time that has passed has done any good in opening your mind to me. Remember, I have given you a great life here. Any common Fae might dump you anywhere and forget you."

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Jareth?" She had never called him by his name before, and the utterance of it brought laughter from the king's mouth.

"Never a threat. I am trying to persuade you." He could not seem to calm himself, bending slightly at the waist he clutched his abdomen and laughed at her whole-heartedly.

"What is so funny?!" Sarah stood and her hands came to her hips.

"Nothing precious!" He croaked. "Please let me collect myself."

This took much longer than what might have eased Sarah. Now, her pride was stinging.

"Jareth." She said, this time projecting her voice. "I have not forgiven you. You imprisoned me, lied to me and held me against my will."

"Redundant, darling, imprisonment and holding you against your will are the same thing."

She could have smacked him. But touching him was dangerous.

His smiled faded from his face and he stood up straight. When he spoke, his voice was so gentle and serious Sarah could feel tears in her eyes and her skin warm.

"Sarah, I love you. Pathetic as it may be I have chosen you. Perhaps our families were connected for a reason. To bring us together?" He smiled a little.

Sarah did not hesitate this time. She sprinted across the room and smacked him. Winning her forgiveness was one thing on its own. But she was certain now that he was willing to spin any lie to break her strength against him.

"You are not _good_." She said. "And I will not fall for some soul-mate garbage. No one is made for anyone and is never just… But…" She was losing words, but she felt he could understand what she meant. She backed away from him, hand s shaking and stared darkly into the fire, frowning so deeply that her forehead ached.

He replied with more calm than she ever could have imagined him capable of. "You are correct; no one is made for anyone. That is why when we find someone we want we have to try."

He stepped in front of her so his body blocked the fire. Her eyes found themselves staring at an amulet around his neck. The same he had worn many years before.

"Sarah." He said. "Are you listening?"

"Yes." Her voice was a cracked, mild whisper.

"I want you. I may not know about love, but I know of wants and dreams. You were such a sweet baby, and could dream so early. So, I cheated and bent the rules to force you to be mine."

"If that is supposed to be some kind of apology it doesn't make any sense."

"It's not an apology." He said.

"Oh."

"Hoggle, I need to get out of here." In her chambers later that evening Sarah had changed into jeans and a t-shirt and was furiously packing a bag. Since Jareth had not provided her with any form of luggage she made one out of the skirts of a large gown. In this she tossed a few _ever-watchers_, some food she had taken from dinner after pleading with the king to let her take it to her room and lastly a book. The book may have been a silly addition to the bag, but she needed something that had a good smell to it, a wholesome inanimate thing to hold.

The dwarf was only staring up at her with imploring eyes, his hands coming up to shake awkwardly about his face every few moments. He was almost stunned free of words.

"I think I know the way out of the Labyrinth," Sarah was saying. "I ran it once; I'm going to do it again…"

"Do ya' even know the way out of the castle?" Hoggle gasped.

This put her at pause for a moment but then she shook that anxiety free. "Don't worry, we can do it. Hoggle I have a serious question."

"What?" He was wincing, rearing up for the severity that was on her face.

"Will you come with me?" She didn't know what she was doing. She had no way of knowing what Jareth had told her about Aboveground was true or not. She wanted to believe that she could somehow return. And there was one person she wanted to return to…

"Of course I will." His answer made her smile. She leaned down and kissed his head, then turned away so he could blush.

"Okay, my plan is simple. Most doors open for me in the castle and there has to be one that leads outside. To a garden or something."

"Yes, there is! Jareth had me stationed there every now and again. Take care of fairies and such." Hoggle said. He helped her finish her packing and soon the pair had readied themselves.

Sarah truly swelled with joy for her friend, willing to step away from the life he had known to venture with her into uncertainty. The evening was quiet while they waited, eagerness making them jumpy.

In the end, Sarah had one decently filled pack, which could be slung over one shoulder and rest on her hip. She tied the ends of the torn skirt to make the sling secure and sat down with Hoggle at her small tea table. As the night trickled into the wee hours and any hustle that may still have been happening in the castle was finally bustled out the two stood.

She put the fire to rest and slung her make-shift back over the jacket she wore. She felt similarly dressed to her first run, a long sleeve shirt, jeans, little loafers, but a jacket completed the outfit and warmed her. Running a finger across the wall she found the door that led out and took Hoggle's hand.

The hallway was dark, but Sarah could see clearly the sleeping goblins scattered here and there about the floor. One was slumped in a pile of hair, presumably attached to his body and was snoring loudly. His comrade beside him was sleeping with his eyes open, only confirmed when the sneaking pair stepped nervously past him and waved their hands over his beady black eyes. Around these sleeping creatures they tip-toed carefully until they finally managed to find a hallway clear of any.

Alone, it was safe to try a door. As Sarah expected it creaked loudly and she was happy to have waited until all goblins were confirmed asleep and away. Behind this door, they found a narrow hall, different from the main passageways they had been using. Its walls were not stone, but red and velvet looking. Sarah reached to touch it, but Hoggle shook his head disapprovingly and she dropped her hand.

When he wasn't looking she reached up and ran her fingers across the wall as they walked. It was smooth and silky to the touch. It was enough to make her sigh, to feel something so real under her skin.

Jeremy walked through his apartment door, arms full of two bulging grocery bags, keys hanging precariously off one finger.

"Lin?" He called, kicking the door shut behind him. Dropping the bags on the kitchen counter he poked his head into the hall to call again.

"Hello?"

A muffled sound, so soft he almost missed it came from the bedroom. He stepped carefully toward the door, half open, calling Linda's name.

He found the room in disarray. The blankets were stripped from the bed and the pillows were un-cased and laying in a pile. And Linda lay on the floor in the center of it all, hair knotted and clothes rumbled and even torn in some places.

"Linda, what's happened?" He fell to his knees beside her, panic making him shake. He was steady enough to lift her up to him and cradled her like a baby.

Pushing the hair away he found her face pale and tear-soaked. She stared up at him with horrified eyes, so green an emerald would be jealous.

"Please, what's wrong?" He begged. He buried his face in her, beginning to cry. His Linda was breaking and there was nothing he could do to repair her. When he left she was asleep peacefully, the television she had been watching humming delicately. Now, she had done some kind of harm to herself.

While he sobbed he felt her hands move to hold his face, his own arms growing limp. She brought his face up and he was held captive under her stare.

"She's coming." She said and thrust something into his hand.

It was tiny, and soft in his hand. When he looked he felt another shudder of sobs shake his body in confusion. He held in his hand a tiny tuft of red velvet.


	7. Chapter 7

Jareth felt entirely uncomfortable after leaving Sarah that night. Nothing had gone as planned, there was no break in their walls and he worried now that he had truly done irreparable damage to her psyche. Plagued with these thoughts he turned to an _ever-watcher_ for distraction but found Sarah was not where she was meant to be.

"Damnit Sarah!" He yelled and threw down the crystal. She was in the Red Hall, being led by that sniveling little dwarf. He knew that she was bent on escaping, but he could not send his magic to follow her with any true diligence. As soon as she stepped out into the Labyrinth she would be lost to him.

"Upset with your pet?" The silky voice of his brother came down by his ear and he felt Jarah's chin resting on his shoulder, peering over to where the shattered crystal lay.

"Where have you been haunting?" He asked him. Stepping out of Jarah's way he concealed a shiver at the memory of his brother's cold touch.

"Here and there," The Nightmare Man said. He leaned down over where the crystal lay and with a sharp fingered hand touched the ruins. "I wonder little brother, if you are up for a game."

"What sort of game now, Jarah?" Jareth grumbled.

"Well, your pet is trying to get out of the Labyrinth." He said. "Which we both know is going to be a very difficult task for her."

The Goblin King was aware of this. It was easy to fall into your dreams, but climbing back out of them was a nightmare. And Sarah had sunk very far into this dreamland.

"What are you proposing?" He looked at his brother.

"I propose that if Sarah can get out of the Labyrinth, through my trials, then she is yours." Jarah was smiling. "But if she cannot get out of the Labyrinth, then she belongs to me."

"Why would you even want a selfish little brat like her?" Jareth asked.

"Because you do."

Sarah and Hoggle were seemingly making no progress. The red hall seemed to stretch on forever. It grew darker the farther they walked, the torches on the wall high above them were soon gone. Total darkness came on the pair with suddenness and they fumbled for each other.

"What'do we do?" Hoggle cried.

"I don't know, should we go back?" Sarah reached for the wall.

"We've walked too far…"

Sarah was shocked into happy silence, because her hand had landed on wall, but it was wood, not red velvet and it moved when she pushed it.

"There's a door." She said and pushed harder. It creaked but burst open at her push. The pair tumbled out into moonlight, finding themselves in a dim looking garden.

"Where are we?" Sarah asked. Hoggle grunted and helped her up.

Around her were high flourishing bushes, bedecked in pale curling flowers; while beneath her was the familiar stone path of the Labyrinth. Before her were three possible paths which led out of the garden and into the turns and corners which could lead to her freedom.

"Which should we try?" She asked.

Hoggle rubbed his chin and shook his head. "Since you ran the first time Jareth changed the way back to the beginning."

"Well, which way looks the best?" She said. To the left the moon cast light on a path which moved uphill and to a flight of stairs that vanished up and away. To the right the path was a little darker, but was straight and flat for what looked like miles. The center path was the most mysterious: it led down a dark staircase where she could see no end of the road. On a good day she would feel more inclined to take this path of all three, but something about it seemed less fun and more sinister than a third path should normally be.

"Which way will you like to pick?"

Both the girl and the dwarf squealed in surprise when they looked up to see a great kind of bird man standing on the wall of the Labyrinth. He had Jareth's pointed and angular features, and Sarah mistook him for the Goblin King.

"Leave us alone, Jareth!" She yelled. Her hand flew to Hoggle's shoulder, but found the dwarf was shaking.

She looked back up at the slender figure, who was shaking his head and laughing. She could see it now, he had Jareth's looks and features but on a totally different palette. Where the Goblin King was swathed in golds and blacks and glitter, this creature was so black he was blue and his skin was a chalky white. The only flesh that could be seen was fragments of his face and his chest and the top of hands and fingers. The rest of his body sprouted black feathers that glinted in the dim light. His clothes weren't quite right either, they seemed like they were struggling to stay on him, their material slipping and sliding on and off of him like water.

"My dear, I am not Jareth. Call me Jarah." He bowed. "And I suggest any route but the middle."

"Why?" Sarah's brow furrowed and she held Hoggle's shoulder tightly in hopes of steadying him.

"Well, both the left and the right lead to nothing but endless paths that will never get you out of the Labyrinth. You'll find your friends, you'll find new ones and you will travel endlessly forever, in a happy daze of this dreamland."

"I got a bad feeling Sarah." Hoggle said gently.

"Where does the middle lead? Will it get me out?" She ignored Hoggle.

"The way forward is sometimes the way back… But it will not be easy." Jarah smiled and Sarah could see his long pointed teeth.

"It doesn't look that hard." She said, but it was weak. She took a step forward and Hoggle shuddered.

"Sarah, this will not be easy," Jarah said. "You venture at your own peril."

He dissolved into the darkness of night and was gone before she could question further. She relaxed her hold on Hoggle who backed away from the opening towards the castle door.

"Come one Hoggle, he said it was the only way out." She sighed. "Who was he anyway?"

She looked at Hoggle, whose shaking hands were close to covering his eyes. He looked up at her with his piercing blue eyes and she could see the tears starting to swell there.

"He is Jareth's brother. The King of Nightmares."

Sarah looked back at the third center path where the stairs that led to nowhere loomed at her.

"But if that's the only way…"

"Sarah stop!" From the door to the palace the Goblin King had appeared, still dressed in black and with the most terrified look in his eyes that she had ever seen.

Without pause she dove for the stairs, abandoning her bag and even Hoggle, whose voice screamed to her as she half ran half tumbled down the dark stair case. Overhead a gathering of thorn bushes concealed any light from the moon. Something collided into her from behind so violently that she fell headlong toward the stars. She rolled, tangled up with another body until both hit the end and fell apart at the base of the stairs.

Moaning, Sarah straightened up and peered through the darkness at her falling companion. She was expecting to see the crumpled form of a dwarf, but she knew that who had fallen with her was too large for that. The Goblin King brushed the hair from his face and growled in exasperation.

He looked at her, sitting on her haunches, sporting a great gash on her forehead from which blood was dripping sleepily. Her green eyes glared at him, as if he was the one to be upset with. She was the one who had thrown herself headlong into Jarah's land. She was the one always running away from him.

She… was getting up and walking away.

"Sarah!" He spat and dove for her.

"Damnit, Jareth, get off of me!" She pushed against him until he let go of her shoulders.

"Sarah, please, this is not the Labyrinth you know…" His voice cracked and he reddened with embarrassment. He was thankful that the dark kept this boyish blush hidden from her. She spun around and glared at him with a terrible green eye.

"Jareth, you have manipulated my life long enough. You have kept me prisoner until I couldn't leave, taken me away from my family and destroyed any opportunity I had for a normal life!"

"You would hate normal life!" He hollered back. They were standing almost nose to nose, their hands in fists and about ready to… either kiss or rip each other to shreds, any witness would be confused as to which they would choose. But Jareth was the first to calm himself.

"I apologize."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. But she had little time to consider what he had said, because creeping out from behind Jareth among the dark gnarled thorn trees was a small figure.

"What is that?" She whispered, and the king spun around. He brandished a crystal with a delicate twirl of his gloved fingers, but it melted just as it was manifested. Sarah found herself grasping his shoulders, drawing him closer as a woman made her way toward them from the shadows. One of Jareth's hands moved back to hold onto Sarah as well, so the two were linked and froze together when Sarah's twin appeared before them.

Not a twin, but her perfect mirror image, sporting the same black hair, same wicked green eyes and the same smile. She was dressed as Jareth was, in black, a sultry kind of gown the real Sarah might never consider wearing. Her flesh was on display almost to the navel the cut was so low. The skirt split on each side and revealed her legs. Smiling when she approached them, she held her arms out to them and beckoned gently.

"Jareth," She said, in Sarah's own voice. "You're here!"

The real Sarah could feel Jareth stiffen. For a moment he seemed to lurch towards the dark Sarah, but then moved back, his grip on Sarah's hip growing stronger.

"Jarah has pulled out all his great tricks for me?" He asked her.

The dark Sarah's face fell, and her lower lip dipped a little in a pout. It was enough to make real Sarah sneer in slight disgust. She had never seen her face look so flirtatious. For a moment the other Sarah's eyes flickered over Sarah's face. The look was dark, riddled in anger and made Sarah squeeze Jareth tighter. She might still hate him, but the sense of horror that her doppelgänger gave her was enough to make Jareth seem friend enough.

"He would like to emphasize to both of you that you cannot help each other through your journey." She said, a pink tongue darting out of her mouth to lick her top lip.

"Why can't he come with me?" Sarah asked.

The twin's green eyes flashed and she stared at Sarah. She took a step forward and both the king and the real Sarah stepped back. They stepped too far and a thorn from the thick braches tore into Sarah's back. Her outcry startled Jareth and they separated. This was enough time for the Sarah twin to snatch the Goblin King in strong arms and tear him fighting into the shadows. Sarah, alone, and bleeding in two places now chased after them, but they had vanished into the darkness and she could not find a path they could have taken among the thorns.

She began to wander, unprepared for what she might face, and for the first time missing the king, who gave her some assurance of safety. The path below her feet was dark and hard to see, and had she had better night vision she would have seen the same path of the Labyrinth, only the tan stones were blackened and cracked. No little goblin pulled up its tile to curse at her, no goblins appeared at all. The silence was the only presence she could feel, and it touched her with strong fingers, prodding her ears and nipping at her ankles.

It whispered _You are alone_.

She wished that she had kept a hold of her supplies, suddenly wanting something to eat. But she pushed hunger aside, wary of what underground food could do to her. With no sun or moon to tell her how long she had walked, she grew indistinct in time. It no longer touched her, and the world felt like a dream.

When finally the path began to diverge and break into new paths Sarah found herself resurfacing from her stupor. Fear rekindled itself in her and she began to run.

In her hurry she missed the eyes poking out from the thorn branches, yellow eyes with blinked only once in a thousand years, blue ones that were colder than death, and a black pair which hovered so close that their nose could smell her.

This was Jarah, who was enjoying his repose while she panicked and scampered through the dark.

"Come now Sarah, you are braver than this." He muttered. She had to have been, but perhaps he had misjudged her. He turned her path to her first challenge, and like a caged bird, she fluttered along her chosen path and came across it, recoiling in fear the moment she saw it.

Jarah sat back to watch her, eager to see how she would fight her battles.

* * *

**I apologize for the long wait, I will try very hard to not do that again!** **Please be awesome and leave me some reviews!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Move the stars, Jareth, move them for me." Her voice was soft; her breath on his ear burned more than the hands she touched him with. It was searing his heart, so sweetly. She was holding his head in her lap, across her _beautiful lap_, and she was leaning down to kiss his forehead and cheeks repetitively, slowly. This was the manifestations of his dreams come to life. This was what his eternity was supposed to be, him and his Sarah. Her scent poured over him in waves, almost touching him as softly as her lips did.

"I'll move them." He reached up to where the sky above was glittering violently with silver light. He felt her pull on him slightly to keep him from moving upward. He remained in his place, suspension never felt so sweet.

In the back of his mind there was a quiet nagging, as tedious and distracting as a goblin, but easily pushed away from his thoughts. He had Sarah to think of now, she was here and that was the only thing that mattered. He was making a fruitless pursuit in stealing her kiss, craning upward as far as he could and sticking his chin up, trying to show her what he wanted. But for every attempt he made, she pressed her small hand against his chest and pushed him back down. This was how they were to sit then, kisses were only for his face and never his mouth. If this was how it was to be for eternity, he was almost satisfied. Her scent was enough to leave him seizing, wheezing for his breath because she was all consuming in his lungs and in his body.

She was safe… She was_ not_ safe.

The lingering nag was rising again, but Sarah leaned down to kiss his nose, bending over his eyes to reach and the scent of her skin altogether smashed those worrisome thoughts. Fully engrossed now and reaching with gloveless hands to try and hold her for a kiss, Jareth let himself sink down into his own sweet oblivion.

Had he not been so sweetly deceived he may have seen how there was something very off about Sarah: her clothes were dark and wilted, her hair was too black and too straight, so it hung limp. Among these there was something wrong with her eyes, but too subtle for noticing. Sarah herself would even struggle in describing the difference, what indescribable malice that lay in the green depths was beyond recognition. Soullessness had no name or title, and this seemed to make it unrecognizable. Even Jareth was not aware of it.

* * *

Sarah tumbled to the ground in her haste to stop. She had just come across a corner and crashed into a great hanging beast. She dragged herself away in fear before looking back at the giant. Its ruddy flesh was hairless, the skin sagging in many heavy folds. His face was wide, with great fangs bursting out of his wide jaw, and black horns sticking out from his skull in wild, thick coils. He stretched his long arms out towards her and cried out. He was suspended at his massive ankles by a thick rope. It was tied to a great hook hanging up over the hedges of thorns.

"Sa-wah!"

On her knees she straightened up, her heart beating hard in her chest as she began to recognize the beast.

"Oh god… Ludo?"

He made a terrible gurgling sound and continued to reach for her in vain. His wide eyes were so black and wet with tears that tears sprang up in her own eyes.

"Fwiend!" He moaned.

"I'll get you down!" She called and began looking through the dark to find some way to release him. But the hook was too high for her to reach on her own.

"Ludo, can you call rocks to help me? I need to reach the hook!"

The hairless Ludo began to holler for them, and soon a great rumble under her feet assured her they were coming.

She stilled suddenly when no rocks came through the maze to reach them… Instead an army of goblins appeared, spears glinting in the dim light, blood red eyes glowing viciously. Sarah threw herself in from of Ludo to keep him safe from the sudden deluge of monstrosities, but she was grasped suddenly around the neck by his massive clawed hand. His thick nails sharpened and dug into her skin and she was lifted up. His other hand grasped her around her waist and pinned her against his hanging body, a perfect angle for the spears to pierce her. The crowd of ugly goblins chanted and squealed in delight at the sacrifice. She realized when the first spear prodded her leg that she had been drawn into a trap.

Gasping, she bucked against the monster Ludo and tore wildly at his hands. She drew blood from his skin, chewed holes into his massive fingers and kicked violently at the spears of the goblins at her feet. Her shoes were torn from her feet and a quick terrible jab to her heel made Sarah scream. The sound startled the creature that held her and she took advantage of the pause. Biting down hard against his massive finger she found herself falling free.

A goblin's spear tore across the flesh of her cheek, but that was the only injury she attained on the fall. She sprinted through the crowd of goblins, pushing and dragging her way through their mass, thankful that, though they were vicious, they were still smaller than her.

She dove into the labyrinth again and ran, barefoot and bleeding, across the dark stone path. Her injured foot was in agony and her cheek was wet with blood, but her terror was stronger than her pain and she ran on through the darkness.

* * *

Linda had fallen. She was in the kitchen pouring a glass of water. It was somewhere close to four in the morning and Jeremy was sleeping. She had left him in the bed; he had only fallen asleep a few hours ago and needed the rest. Throat dry, she had snuck to the kitchen quietly, where she now stood beside the running faucet, hands clenched against the edge of the sink and sweaty hair hanging over her face.

She had been standing there for only a few seconds when she cried out as a sharp pain overwhelmed the heel of her foot. Crashing to the floor she heard Jeremy cry out in surprise at the sound and he came running from the bedroom to find her.

She was clutching her foot in her hand, crying and a cut on her cheek was bleeding.

Jeremy helplessly tried to take her up in his arms. There was little he could do for her now. It was then that he finally decided what he had been hoping he would not have to do. After dressing her injuries and putting her back in bed, Jeremy flipped open his address book to find his doctor's phone number.

* * *

Sarah finally slowed when the only sounds she could hear was her own heart and frantic breathing. Dizzy with fear she slumped against the stone wall and tried to slow her breathing. She clutched her bleeding heel and began to cry a little in spite of herself. Around her a silence had fallen, so she was alone with her own thoughts and frantic breathing. The air was cold and damp, but as she bled she began to feel warm and sleepy.

Tearing some of her shirt sleeve, which proved to be excessively difficult, she tied her foot up over the deep, bloody wound. The cut on her cheek she left alone, for it had already dried and was starting to grow hard with scabbing.

How long had it been? Maybe an hour, or possibly two, but it could not have been much longer. She clambered awkwardly to her feet and began the terrible walk that would be hers from now on. The bottom of her foot sang with every step, a terrible song of hot, tingling pain, while the rest of her body shook softly in response.

She paused in her limping across the path when she heard a gentle snap. It was too dark to see far ahead but she squinted wildly, her hands outstretched and ready to fight.

"Who's there?" She said.

"Me."

Her heart hoped for Hoggle, but the soft voice was not gruff enough. What first appeared from the shadow was a face, quasi-familiar, but deeply wrong. It was too pale to be the sun-browned Goblin King and too dark in the eyes and the hair. Head covered in feathers of the blackest shade, the man moved like a bird, swift and violet movements. So when he tilted his head to observe her, she could almost not detect the movement.

"Jarah."

"How are you enjoying my labyrinth?" It was as though the shadows melted off of his black feathers like a blanket being pulled away as he moved towards her. She winced at his eyes, so black, but milky white pupils that went on for years sat in their centers. He was dressed sparsely, in a strange kind of misty material that moved over his body like it was a living creature. Amid his crazily feathered hair, Sarah could see pieces of small bones tied into the black locks, small beads and strange glittering trinkets. Sarah could see that among the tiny sticks of bone and glinting silvery beads there was a small doll tied around the next near the bottom of his hair. She could see its sad face, button eyes torn away so only their shadows remained on the fabric, peeking out from under his left ear. Her mouth was a stitched line of dull red thread, a semi-circle with edges turned up.

"I thought this was Jareth's Labyrinth." Sarah could not stop staring at that doll, but it was better than his terrible eyes.

He moved a jerking step closer to her.

"The moment you leapt down the stairs you left Jareth's world, my dear." Jarah smiled, and she could see his fanged teeth were sharper than Jareth's. "You are in my world now, very different than my brother's Underground."

"Where are we?" She asked. She crossed her hands over her chest to hold herself, for Jarah had brought with him a terrible chill that was sinking closer and closer to her.

"We are in my land."

"That's very specific." She grumbled and tried to move back from his approach.

"I see you have hurt yourself." He bent slightly to observe her foot, which had left a little smear of blood on the dark stones below.

Sarah was about to protest with him, and blame one of his rotten goblins, when she thought better of herself and simply nodded.

"Might I tend to it, then?" The tone in which he asked was so gentle that Sarah almost immediately said yes, but her affirmation came later, because a flicker of some kind of malice gleamed in his odd eyes and made her hesitate. But she was bleeding, so she nodded again and followed his gesture to sit down.

"I take it my brother was not so kind when you ran his little maze. Is there not a fairy bite on your finger?" He spoke slowly, as though he was not used to the tempo. She could imagine that when he talked naturally it was at a much swifter speed and perhaps a much more difficult tongue.

As if to force her to acknowledge it, the scar on her finger tingled at the mention of it. It was a small thing, a little circle made from pointed dots, where the pretty fairy fangs had chomped down on her skin.

"Jareth does not take care of his guest, but I do." Jarah took Sarah's bandaged foot in his hands and lifted it up. He tenderly peeled away the shirt scrap and eyed the injury seriously. He leaned down very low and quickly, before she could protest, his tongue lashed out and licked the wound. He smiled at her, tongue hanging out of his mouth and red with her blood.

She whimpered in surprise and pain, but the pain was only temporary. It was terrible for a second, stinging viciously, when all at once it stopped and her foot felt cool. He let go of her foot and she dew it towards herself. It was totally healed. She prodded the fresh skin in wonder and looked up at Jarah in slight awe.

"Thank you." She said.

He smiled at her, a similar grin of Jareth's, very crooked and odd, as though he was smiling at an ignorant child. His feathered hair rippled and the flood of movement rushed through his strange scarred limbs.

"Shall I leave you to continue your adventures?" He asked serenely, leaning back against the opposite wall from hers.

"How much time do I have left?" She asked tentatively.

His smile grew wider and he was swallowed into the shadows again, like a fog being swept away by the wind. He was gone, and Sarah was alone again.

* * *

**Please review! I appreciate all constructive criticism.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Please review, friends! I would like to know what ya'll think! And lately this story hasn't had much in the way of reviewing… The last two chapters have been nearly void of reviews. Sorry this one is short!**

**Thank you for reading **_**Prisoner**_** as always.**

The soulless Sarah had laid Jareth back across a soft bed of moss. Her hair fell low and tickled his face while she leaned over him and kissed his forehead. She had removed much from his person: his amulet, his coat and his boots, so that he was dressed only in his pants and shirt, bare feet dirtied with the earth. He never would have let something like this happen, but it was Sarah, his glorious Sarah, who had him flattened and open to her touches. Under her control, he could do nothing. Submission had never been a part of his personality; kings were the dominant. He had the compulsion to follow her commands; a promise that lingered in the air enslaved him joyfully to her.

"Jareth." She said softly.

He reached for her, fingers brushing her cheeks before she drew herself up and away so he couldn't grasp her. She smiled at him, and it was just a little too wide. He was beginning to notice the slight differences. Her lips were too puffy, but only a little. Their color was deeper, a purplish red, like a bruise. Her teeth were quite ordinary, but perhaps too sharp.

He experienced the sheer bladed quality of her teeth when she bit into the flesh of his neck, drawing blood and making him whine. It was a monstrous appetite this Sarah had. While she began to suck the blood from his neck Jareth began to realize his mistake.

The wild bog was scentless, or smelled like Sarah's own musk so well that she could not detect it. It was dark and calm, there was for sound only the hush of her bare feet on the ground and the gentle thud of her heart in her ears. She saw when the stone path ended a weak bridge of rock. Recalling her first experience with a bog bridge she searched for some other way to where the path continued. The bog itself was a great, black bubble, with pale fumes rising silently and warming the air with scentless clouds. Sarah kneeled down near where the bridge started so as to see over the edge. She peered down into the water-like pond, and saw that the bog moved slowly, like a sleepy sea beast, whose flesh was rippling gently with chills. It was black, but she could detect some traces of colored bodies beneath, rolling through the gurgling waves. There proved to be no other way to the other side of the bog but the sighing bridge.

Tremulous and weak-looking, the bridge swayed gently when she first stepped on its stone body. It made her freeze with nervousness.

"Come on feet." Her voice shook gently. The first bog had not seemed nearly as frightening as this one, though it may have smelled enough to make her hair curl, there was nothing about it which seemed all that terrifying. But the way strange figures moved beneath the surface of this bog water, so black that only the faintest forms could be seen within. Before she could take another step, either forward or backward, there was such a loud crack that her hands flew to her ears and the bridge spiraled down beneath her feet. She tumbled downward and crashed into the icy, thick bog. And she sank.

Linda was sitting in a waiting room with Jeremy at her side holding her hands tightly in his own

"You're going to be fine." He was saying. "They will just give you some sleep medication."

"He is punishing me." She said quietly

"I know." Jeremy was answering honestly. She had grabbed hold of him the night before and told him the terrible story of Sarah, the baby she gave up and the old family friend who took her off her hands. He had sat through it all, stomaching the shameful story.

"But he gave her to her father…" Jeremy had recalled awkward dinners where Sarah, silent and solemn, had sat across the table from him. He could recall with depth the way her chilly green eyes had looked at him, with the hint of jealousy.

"Yes." Linda confirmed. She was watching across the waiting room where a dark haired boy was poking the glass of the shining fish tank, his dark haired mother sitting beside him and reading a magazine. "And he took her back again, a few years ago. He's had her now for almost four years."

"But she's a minor still… Does he have custody of her? Legally?"

"Yes, he can do anything, legal or otherwise. But… She is happy with him… She is attached to him."

"What do mean by attached?"

"He has a way of making anyone like him, mostly… He has… wealth."

"Is Sarah a materialistic girl?"

She hesitated. "I actually don't know. I know nothing about her."

Jeremy was quiet then, puzzling over Linda and her daughter. It had seemed through all of his experience with the girl, who was fifteen last he saw, that she was at the very least awkward. Sarah had been quiet, with her mother's raven hair and a wild set of green eyes. She spoke very little when she visited, and her focus was set only on Linda. She adored her, with a visible, glowing passion. Her eyes followed her when she moved through a room, she followed her like a duckling, so closely that Linda would give Jeremy frustrated stares.

Whatever partial lies she had to tell, Linda still felt relieved for actually telling Jeremy some truths.

In the doctor's office Jeremy was violently trying to soothe her guilt. They were safe now, she was not to blame for mistakes of her youth.

Linda tried hard to believe him but her body was cold and heavy. She felt as though she was drowning.

Sarah broke the surface and accidently swallowed bog while she gasped for air. It clung to her in large sticky globs, pulling at her clothes and tearing at her hair, hard enough to rip some from her skull. She felt large curling bodies hard and warm, swimming and knocking at her feet and rubbing at her calves. Everything was heavy and freezing.

She surged through the pool, struggling against its hardness and choking on the black sludge that clung to her throat. The banks of the bog were drawing nearer, but when she thought that she may make it. Something wrapped itself around her leg. She was, at one moment drawing near the shore, where she could see a forest begin, and then the next moment she was blinded and without breath.

She fumbled in the water, arms wild, mouth gaping and nasty bog filled her and she grew furious with pain. She continued to flail.

She wished that she could break away. She wished the monster m holding her thigh would fall away and she could escape. Her eyes flew open and she fought violently against her captor.

What at first looked like nothing but a pale splatter of light through the water, came swimming into focus a tan face. The blackness fell away and detail come over its features. When the peculiar eyes and strong features came into focus through the murk, Sarah could see that it was Jareth there, naked body glowing gold in the darkness. He swam to her through the bog darkness and when he reached for her the creature holding her thigh let go of her and slide away. She was drawn through the thickness and the painful daze was overtaking her now. She could barely feel the kiss that he laid on her lips as gently as possible before she closed her eyes and lost consciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry if the waiting period is long between chapters! It will get better now because I am finally done with my last trimester of school for the year! My summer schedule will be lighter, so more chapters will arrive on a more regular basis! Enjoy!**

**Note: Slightly graphic? I do not know what constitutes a warning for creepy content, but we are in the Nightmare Labyrinth, so creepy is the norm**

Sarah inhaled sharply and hiccupped. Slimy goo came surging out of her body and spilled onto the sandy shore of the bog. Crouching on his knees Jareth leaned down to wipe her cheeks clean and brush her hair back from her face. Her body shook as it recovered quietly, her pained moans continued for a number of minutes while the exhausted Goblin King sat quietly beside her. He was trying to maintain his calm, but already his temper was waning. After escaping the trap that Jarah had set for him he had little patience left for his cold hearted brother. Now, Sarah was hurting, her slip into the Nightmare Bog had almost cost her life, the poison of the waters could have leaked into her brain by bloodstream and settled such a black despair there that she would be dead in hours.

He thanked every god from every religion imaginable that he had broken free of Sarah's hideous doppelgänger, whose carcass was now lying in strange pieces on the maze-floor where he had left her. It was not as though he had meant to kill her; the little imp should have known that he was no feast for her kind. He was the pure opposite of Jarah, and this made him an impenetrable force. Dream against nightmare; Jareth was like the sunshine to Jarah moon glow. When the nightmare-demon had chewed into his flesh she had been thrown from his body almost instantaneously, before Jareth could even realize what was happening. His blood on her lips seared her skin and melted away the loveliness of Sarah from the she-witch's body, revealing the molted violet skin and straw-like hair. Her eyes of green had melted away into two empty pits, wherein any mortal who looked would see their own worst fears.

His blood had not stopped there, for even as the Sarah-skin had dropped away so did the poor beast's own flesh. She made little noise, which was what made the whole minute so terrible. She writhed for a moment, gasping softly as her fingers fell off, taking shards of her flesh away from the bones of her arms. Her hair sank free from her skull and shriveled against the stone ground. Her teeth blackened and shrank until disappearing altogether and she flung her arms up only to have them disintegrate to her shoulders.

Jareth had lain on the ground through these terrible moments of death, watching as piece by piece she melted away and was scattered, in remaining pieces, about the labyrinth floor. All the while after, as he stormed through the darkness hunting for Sarah, he could hear the silence of the she-beast ringing louder than any sound in his ears. Her crumbling features replayed in his mind, as though to remind him of his own failings; this trap of Jarah's was not just a means to attain Sarah alone, it was a reminder of Sarah's waning mortality.

Or, perhaps, Jareth was reading too deeply into a very haunting death of a Nightmare.

Sarah finally breathed easily, her back visible through her soaked shirt moved slowly and deeply. She was still unconscious, so Jareth leaned down to press his ear against her ribs to listen for bog in the lungs.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was weak.

Jareth pulled away from her body quickly and smiled wickedly at Sarah.

"Is that anyway to greet the one who saved you?" He chided.

"You mean the same one who trapped me for years without my consent and had me living in a delusion?" It took her a while to actually say all of this, but delivery impeded or not, she was still very good at verbal stinging.

"I wish you had learned to play nicely in school."

"Considering I haven't been in a real school for years I am not too surprised I lost some social skill." She tried to sit up, but cringed when she bent her body to get on all fours.

"Take it easy." He stretched his legs and stood up, manifesting breeches and a shirt as he stood.

"You were naked when you jumped in." She grumbled.

"I did not want to ruin decent clothes, whether or not you were about to meet death."

"It's nice to know you care." Sarah finally managed to roll over and sit up straight, chilled. "How did you find me?"

"You are not wearing deodorant."

"And you know what that is because…?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Who was responsible for manifesting a false reality for all that time? I did significant research for you to have the best quality of human life."

"Oddly enough, I am not flattered." She looked up at the sky, which was always a dim black and found that it had started to grow lighter. "I'm running out of time." She whined.

She got to her feet painfully and stumbled around, searching for a direction to take. Jareth was swiftly at her side and took her arm to steady her.

"You have just swallowed half of the ridiculous bog. Give yourself a moment."

"I don't have a moment," She swung his hold away. "I need to get out of her, and I know you don't want me to succeed."

"Sarah," He said gravely. "There is nothing I want more than for you to get yourself out of here. Now that I am free from my trap I am going to help you."

She stared at him hard, her eyes fixated on his own. What was troubling about him was his ability to charm and beguile. In the world she was currently in, with hell waiting behind every turn, she was almost searching for some charm to set her mind at ease.

"You know something, Kingy?" She said.

He was too startled to answer her.

"I think I knew I never got out." She said. "And I think, maybe I didn't want to go back. But what might have been nice was if instead of shoving my mortal ass into a dream world you could have given me a chance on my own here. Maybe loosen those chains you are so fond of."

Feeling proud, she chose her direction and stormed left, into the gully of trees that awaited her. She had glanced back to try and give him a sly look just as he was reaching to warn her of the tree she was about to crash into.

"Ow!" Sarah tumbled backward but, caught by Jareth, was able to see what had been in her way. A thick tree, cut before its branches could begin, sat before them. It did not matter that its bark was too pale and peeling away, or that its roots were purple with sickness; what mattered to Sarah was the body, frozen and half made of wood itself that was caught, intertwining with the flesh of the tree itself, as though it was being swallowed and slowly transformed.

"Sarah, it's not real, we need to go." Jareth whispered low in her ear.

Sir Didymus's face, frozen in a silent cry of agony stared at Sarah. The harsh bark with all its peeling flesh clung to his wooden body fiercely and Sarah felt tears bubbling over her cheeks. Jareth, in a moment that Sarah would puzzle over later clamped a hand over her eyes and dragged her past the fox-eating tree and away into the forest. He stopped only when they were far away enough for Sarah not to see a trace of bog, or her slaughtered friend, where upon she shoved him away and viciously rubbed her eyes.

The pair had almost no time to pause before a guttural cry rang through the forest.

Jareth cursed, and he grabbed her wrist, but running was now a lost cause. The trees suddenly blazed with yellow flame, whose arrival was instantaneous, and accompanied by six melting, feathered bodies. Their flesh was black, their hair and feathers were white and flaming brightly in the dimness of the forest. Their bodies were skeletal, their limbs holding onto their shapes by means of a few tendrils of muscle. Their faces were pale, but their eyes burned blue, set deep into the bony structure, fixated above a toothy smile.

"Welcome back little Lady." One hissed. The guttural cry was nothing like the jazzy, throaty voice of the Fiery she had met before.

As the group circled around Sarah and Jareth, setting the surrounding trees ablaze, a figure from above appeared, his white pupils dilating in delight when the first flame licked up Sarah's arm.


	11. Chapter 11

Sarah dodged the licking flames and found herself rolling into the underbrush of a bush, clinging to her searing arm and fighting back tears of shock. Jareth had thrown her out of the way when flames had surged forward from the writhing bodies of the Fierys, their melting flesh dripped free from their bodies and the ground sizzled where it landed. The goblin King conjured as many crystals as he could withstand magically and they sailed through the air towards the beasts of flame. When the glittering orbs crashed into the fires they burst into floods of shining waters, dousing the flames which battled them.

Crystals crashed and exploded into thousands of streams of water, sending steam, black as night up into the air. The creatures screamed as their fires were extinguished and the bodies blackened, turning from elegant earth-stars into spikey charred bones, dancing wildly. With a hiss they finally stilled and there was complete calm. The charred naked bodies were now statues of blackened flesh, hard and shining in places where white bone had been freed. The Goblin King breathed deeply and coughed, the scent of their deadness stank like poison in his nose and burned his lungs. From under the bush Jareth could hear Sarah's frantic breathing and then a soft whine of pain.

"Sarah," Jareth kneeled and reached into the bush to help her out. He had not anticipated how severe the burn on her arm truly was, but the glinting tears on her cheeks and pinkness of her face showed her strain.

She crawled from the bush with Jareth's help and he hoisted her onto her feet. Once standing Sarah was finally able to pull her hand free from the hard grip it had on her arm. Beneath was her burnt flesh, moist and sparkling in the glow which Jareth was producing from a crystal. Air was hissing through her teeth as she breathed hard, the white pain making it difficult to think. Around them the trees had new companions: the Fiery bodies were like new trees themselves now, standing with their arms up in despair, agonizing branches turned up to the sky.

In spite of herself Sarah began to cry for them, as terrifying as their wildness had been upon attack, she could see now on the black faces the expressions of strange quasi-joy, quasi-hysteria that had made the Fierys who they were. For a moment even Jareth was silent, a grim look on his face as he observed her injury while she mourned.

Then Jareth grasped Sarah's wrist and winced, his own skin aching for her. With his spare hand he delicately touched the pained flesh and tried to lift away the injury. Piece by piece the magic he passed into her body peeled away from her skin the essence of burn, healing deeply and searching for hurt to repair. When finally she exhaled hard in relief the flesh was clean of wound and the Goblin King relaxed.

"Well, little brother, you do care for your pets, after all."

Both turned and jumped in surprise. In the tree above them, among the black and angled leaves, Jarah stood, folding the doll hanging in his mossy hair. Sarah tried to avoid his eyes, but there was no place on his face that she could keep her stare. In her tension she found her hand searching for Jareth's arm, which she griped upon finding. As her eyes finally met Jarah's she could feel pain flare up her newly healed arm as though the burn had returned. Her heel and cheek tingled with remembrance of their healing as well and the onslaught of sensations running across her body made Sarah shudder. The white pupils in Jarah's eyes shrunk and grew wildly as he observed her trembling.

"How much time do I have left?" Sarah shocked both brothers when she spoke.

Jarah smiled. "You have plenty of time Sarah, but I think your conviction is waning." He eyed her hand, which was clutching Jareth's arm tightly.

She dropped her grip and clasped her hands together. "Why are you here?"

"Well," He stepped off of the branch on which he had stood and floated slowly to the ground. "I thought it polite to check on you since you have encountered such treacheries since last we met."

"She does not deserve your games Jarah." Jareth said. Now that Sarah was no longer touching him, he himself reached and touched her shoulder. "Come Sarah, we can finish this."

Jarah tutted quietly and rustled his feathers. The doll in his hair blinked and Sarah flinched.

"I do believe, my dear Jareth, that my deal with Sarah was for her to solve my labyrinth on her own." He said his voice low and gentle.

"She will die here."

"She can make her own way just fine. And unlike you I am quite a good caretaker for my guests." The dark haired nightmare-man took a generous step towards Sarah, close enough to reach a long nailed finger to her hair, which he combed back from her face softly. "Before your interruption I was about to help my runner out of the little bog mess she had slipped into."

He moved to the side and grasped one of Sarah's sweaty hands. "And now, to prove my kindness to Sarah-sweet, I would like to treat her to something. A taste of my realm at its finest."

Jareth had no time to stop his brother when he swept Sarah away in a foggy cloud, he grasped at the air where she had once been standing before hollering wildly into the air.

* * *

The air was sweet. A low rumble, like a drum echoed around her, the sound almost tangible and she could feel it radiating up her feet. Her skin was warm, and she was weighed down by a lovely heaviness over her body, like a blanket suspended all around her. Yet it moved. It ran in warm currents all across her body, swimming over her stomach, reaching between her breasts and spiraling smoothly down her arms. Other currents of the cloth-river ran up from her ankles to her knees and then her hips, following the curves of her young body and tracing the movements of her limbs. It danced on her, a comfort she had never known she had needed and a touch she had never felt. Her eyes opened and coming toward her in the darkness was a figure.

It flew towards her, growing in detail until she could see it was no stranger at all; it was a looking glass, in which was reflected the image of herself. But it was not entirely the Sarah that she knew. The skin was so pale that she looked like a blank page of paper, upon which only her lips, peach colored, and her marble green eyes were drawn on. Her hair was so long it touched the black ground she stood on. And her body, which seemed much more womanly than seventeen year old Sarah was used to, was covered in the same swirling black material that Jarah wore, and riddled with thin pockets and in a constant state of movement.

She twisted and turned, trying to observe her reflection in as many angles as she could. She needed no light to see in this mirror, and nothing else but her own lovely image reflected in its glass.

"You look lovely."

She could not see Jarah, but his voice behind her was close to her left ear, a hot cloud of air made the flesh there burn a little.

"What have you done to me?" She twisted and watched the gauzy fabric sink and slither around her back. She ran her hands through her hair, but it was far too long to reach the ends of.

"Nothing, I have merely shown you what you can become in your entirety if you choose to stay in my lands."

"Why would I ever do that?"

His warm chest pressed up against her back and his arms moved to embrace her. He rested his sharp chin on her shoulder and nuzzled her cheek with his sharp nose.

"Because I can be so much more than my brother ever could be." He whispered. "He moves the stars… I'll move time and send you back. I will let you live your human life as you should have. And when you have lived your mortal days I will take you back to me." His lips brushed the curve of her neck and he gripped her stomach in one of his hands. His free one came up to turn her face to his.

His frosty eyes shimmered in his white face. His lips curved into a smile and his sharp teeth glinted a little.

Sarah felt her breath slipping away from her as the more luxurious sensations overcame her. His sharp tipped fingers ran over her skin lightly as he turned her back to the mirror. Her gown had changed and was solid now. It had a high collar which reached to her jawline, but no sleeves after the curve of her shoulders. From there down it hung tightly to her body, accentuating features she was not sure she truly possessed. At the place where her legs split a bright purple jewel was hanging off the end of a v-shaped belt, and it glinted brightly.

"Why be a queen in Jareth's fantasy, when you can be a goddess in my reality?" Jarah asked and his hand came down to grasp her hand. He drew it up to her face and then brought it to his own, so she could feel the cool skin of his face. He kissed her fingers gently and the mirror began to drift away, taking the lovely image of Sarah with it.

It was replaced with the crescendo of the beating drum and the room began to come to light, revealing a chamber of unmeasurable size that was filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of applauding, masked people. They were gorgeously gowned or elegantly suited, and wore bright masks over their faces and gloves on their hands. At her side Jarah held out a gloved hand of his own.

With no hesitation Sarah took it.


	12. Chapter 12

Jareth, alone, was bounding swiftly across the dark labyrinth earth. He was now adorned as he properly should be, as the king of dreams. From head to toe he was shining white, his robes peppered with bright golden feathers and streaked with strips of gold and silver. His pants were violet and his boots were black, but blazing stars clung to him, and crystals hovered close to his body, so he was never truly dark anywhere. Tied into his hair, which was long and shimmering with wild light, were colorful rocks, bright green branches with their wick on display and even a few strong limbed butterflies that made nest there. Free of glamour made him feel just as free from the niceties that were so traditionally enforced. Kindness was a human infection, and he had been kind to his elder brother long enough. He followed Jarah's track, an invisible trail of magical discharge left in the wake of transporting a human. It left a heavy smell for the goblin king to follow. It led, just as he feared to the mouth of the cave in which Jarah resided.

It had a gaping maw for a door, bedecked with hanging moss and thick, dirty piles of cobweb. Jareth entered with no pause, lighting the darkness with the only light that could brighten nightmare: the glow of the dream king. Inside the walls were damp and grey, and the path he walked was slick. He did not know Jarah's home well, but knew by the trail that he was drawing close. He took a particular step, not far into his journey, which made the crack of his step sound hollow. He stomped hard on the ground and could feel it jostle. Stepping back he searched the ground in the haze of his glow and found the knob. When he opened the door he found himself observing, from above, a great and terrible ballroom.

* * *

The chamber was lit with flaming chandeliers, where tiny figures, not quite goblin and not quite human, hung and sat upon while they swung and twirled. They were dressed in gowns and suits of black and violet, their hair, if they had any, lay in crumbled twists and braids on the tops of their heads. On the floor below the crowd of dancers spun in slow circles. Like their heavenward counterparts they were in violet and black, adorned with heavy amethysts, black gloves and pale as snow masks. Their eyes could not be distinguished for the shadow of the mask concealed them. All the women were lovely; their grace was unmatchable even by their partners. And the men were tall and handsome, proudly leading their smaller partners in perfect circles. The music was like a gentle sigh, encasing the dancers in an impulsive embrace which caused their urge to move. Parallel to the dark walls their ran two long tables, where sweet smelling food was laid out on silverware so beautiful it seemed a sin to use them.

Sarah could feel this urge within herself; the music was there touching her heart and spreading with her pulse through her body. It warmed her and beckoned movement into her body with hot crescendos. She found herself feeling muddled; her head was aching dully with every deep rumble of the drums. This pestering pain was a terrible distraction from the sensual world around her, there on that moving dance floor. As Jarah led her slowly closer to the center of the dark chamber the elegant figures surrounding her blurred, their gowns wrinkled in her peripheral vision and their masks slipped away revealing horrendously marred faces. But just as soon as Sarah could see their faces the masks replaced themselves over the mournful expressions once again, and Sarah was finding it impossible to recall the horrors she glimpsed when they vanished again.

"Sarah."

She returned her attention to her partner. Dressed as he was in a grand coat dotted with violet stones, his untamable hair combed back and tied with a purple ribbon, the Nightmare Man looked handsome. When she stood this close to him she could see that his wickedly dark eyes, white pupils glinting, may once have been a kind of warmer color. Were it not for the hints supplied by his accessories she may never have guessed correctly.

"You are observing me quite intensely." He commented after a pause. "What interests you?"

"Were your eyes once purple?" As she spoke she felt something run up her sine and she jumped in surprise.

Behind her a masked woman was pulled away, the hollow of her eyes glinting with emptiness, her narrow finger quivering.

"Once," Jarah said gently. He drew Sarah in closer to him and turned away from a second dancer who was reaching to touch her. She accepted his pull and found herself nuzzled into the crevice of his neck, her nose making friends with his earrings. They were twin shards of amethysts, hanging from two holes in his left earlobe.

A warm and sweet smell radiated from off of his neck and clouded Sarah wonderfully in a shroud of sleepy comfort. The swirling skirts brushing against hers faded out of her consciousness; the hard looks that she could feel on her mask-less face were losing their power to make them blush while she was no longer able to feel them. All she could feel was Jarah's bare hand guiding her own, while his spare was clasped against the small of her back. She could feel the weight of her gown growing heavier on her body, gently though. Everything was gentle in this odd world.

When Jarah tightened his hold on her body, it was with gentle ferocity. When a masked man abandoned his partner and hovered at her side, the hand he laid on her shoulder was gentle. His partner followed and with soft hands took away Sarah's hand from Jarah's back to hold it tenderly. Person by person, they shuffled closer and drew near her, stretching their arms out to touch her. Hands were all across her back. Soon Sarah and Jarah were brought to a standstill as more and more subjects of the Nightmare King drew closer. A thousand hands touched Sarah, with the kindest fingers. It was as though she was being praised or embraced by this masked crowd. She leaned into their touches, luxuriating in the feeling of praise and want, but was drawn back to Jarah, who smiled warmly.

"They are pleased with you." He said.

"Who are they all?"

"They are my subjects of course. The members of my court." His mouth twisted into a kind of peculiar smirk. It was reminiscent of Jareth's, but it was sleepier, less snobbish. She quite liked that strange expression. Quite a lot.

Enough for her to rotate onto her toes to be closer to his face. The proximity altered, Jarah's eyes focused on hers and she was sure now that violet iris was mixed in among the ribbons of black. She freed her hand from a courtier who had been clutching it fiercely. Around her the crowd still surged and ached to touch her, their pleas now low, audible moans, but she no long had an inkling to care.

She touched his face. His skin was warm and smooth. Had she really been missing how handsome he was? His bones were like Jareth's but meaner, stronger, so that his face was not as androgynous. The thin line of his mouth was stern, even wicked and pale white with only the hint of hushed rose.

Someone clutched her shoulder and drew her away. The music began to swell, changing into a faster and more difficult dance. Her new partner was dressed less richly than Jarah, and she found her elf aching for the nightmare man. She caught sight of him as she spun and turned, dancing with another woman in a pale violet gown. He was staring, but only at Sarah.

The dance required the constant change of partners, and though Sarah was guessing steps she was able to keep up with the transitions well. During the imprisonment of Jareth's illusion, the false Karen had her take a few dance lessons. She realized now how this was another manipulation of Jareth's, one which followed suit with his intentions of training her for his queen-slave. This was a manipulation she was a little proud of. Passed from person to person she watched and waited for when she would be returned to Jarah's arms. She paid little attention to her partners until a blonde man with wild hair tamed by a black ribbon caught her hand. Under that hollow of his mask she thought she could spy the brightness of blue eyes for a moment, below the glaze of shadow. But the man had had his turn with her and left her to a new partner before she could truly look. And then, Jarah was back. She could not quell the joy she felt when he reappeared, nor stop herself from grasping him fiercely.

"Hello again, little dreamer."

She felt like she might swoon. Her lungs filled with his scent and her eyes teared in delight.

Jarah, to her disappointment, released her hand and his fingers twirled in a graceful circle. A black orb appeared in his hand but it swiftly changed, deepening in pigment and morphing until it was a ruddy violet.

The room around them stilled and the music slowed until only three low bells were chiming softly.

Jarah let go of Sarah so the two of them stood very close, facing each other on a dance floor that was starting to empty. His court was vanishing silently into a surrounding darkness.

"Sarah," He spoke very low and quiet. "You are a beautiful soul. I would want nothing more than for you to become a part of my world… be mine as I will be yours. Become a goddess."

He extended his hand which held the fruit to her. His other hand reached to carve, with his claw like nail, the round fruit in two. Red juices oozed when he tore it in half. Red tipped seeds sprang free, some to litter the ground at Sarah's feet.

"I invite you Sarah, into my world to be my equal." He moved closer to her. "I offer you a life with me. I offer an alternative eternity."

He plucked a seed from one of the halves he had and brought it to his mouth. It left a stain, like a smear of blood, on his lip.

He leaned down towards her, dark eyes intense and Sarah blushed.

The kiss tasted of pomegranate juice.

But the next second Jarah was screaming and curled in pain, clutching the bleeding earlobe from which Sarah had torn out his amethyst earrings.

"No one," She whispered. "Will ever manipulate me again." She straightened and her eyes grew hard with a wonderful stare at the nightmare man. She dropped the bloody earrings to the floor at his side.

From where he was observing Jareth smiled in relief and said. "There's my girl."

"No." Sarah turned swiftly and met his eyes from where he was poised in the ceiling above her.

With her long hair pulled back from her face Jareth could see how young she was, how young and how sad. But her melancholy was elegant, because she wore it with the bravery of a queen; she was powerful there, only a seventeen year old wisp. She did not slouch or moan, she was as tall as her body could be, and with no complaint.

He reached his hand down to her, intending to lift her up through the air to him.

Just as she began to reach in turn, the Nightmare had recovered.

Dropping his full glamor, his body began to swell until he was as large as the chamber itself. He was no longer man, but entirely beast. He swiped Sarah with one of his massive claws and she crashed into the floor, limp as a doll.

As the shock froze Sarah's senses she spotted something silver and bright nearby on one of the long tables where the food was laid out.

And she made a choice.

* * *

**Okay readers! Only one chapter left! Are you prepared? Are you? I'm not!**

**I hope you enjoyed the read!**


	13. Chapter 13

At the sight of Sarah, pale and struggling to regain her breath on the floor Jareth burst from his hiding spot in a vision of white. He drew a crystal from the air and shaped it into a blade, intending to hurl it into Jarah's hand. But Jarah was faster than his brother and, as though the goblin king was an irritating fly, he was swept out of the air and came crashing to the ground. He quickly recovered to see Sarah, blinking dazedly and struggling to sit up.

Sarah herself kept the shine of silver in her peripheral vision, but she was preoccupied by Jarah, now the beast from her sleeping hells, as he hovered on his hinds legs above her. Below his dripping mouth Sarah could see the full terrible detail of his face: it stretched wide like a cat's, but the snout was bear-like, the eyes were black marble and the pupils too small to see. His fur was matted with thick black feathers, and his mouth was full of more teeth than Sarah had ever seen before in her entire life. His body took up so much space in the room that Sarah could no longer see it entirely. When it seemed like Jarah might swipe at her again with one of his massive claws Sarah screamed.

"Wait!"

She scrambled for the fallen pieces of fruit on the floor, and plucked a seed from the red flesh. Above, Jarah stilled and Sarah could hear Jareth's sharp intake of breath when she lifted the tiny red piece to her lips and ate it.

"I'll stay with you." A pomegranate seed had never tasted so bitter.

There was a great explosion, the kind that made a person go temporarily deaf and this so wildly disoriented Sarah that she tumbled back down to the ground. But she had known where to go, having kept that glimmer of silver in her mind. So she soon found herself at the table, sending silver plates down to the floor as she flung her arms on its top, searching for something sharp. When she found what she wanted she secured it in her sleeve while the room recovered from the burst of magic. She turned and Jarah was himself again, down to his peculiar smile and tiny, sad doll in his mass of hair. The look he gave her was, to the untrained eye, a tender one, but she could detect the flutter of strange light. It was a prideful look, a joyful one; a look that meant he had won the game.

He stepped close to her, so they stood chest to chest and she could feel his breath moving him. He took her chin in his long-nailed fingers and tilted her face up to look at him. There was a stain on her lips from the juice of the fruit. Without a word he leaned down to kiss her, and Sarah marked the strange angry sound that came from the nearby Jareth, cataloging it in her memory as the best sound she had ever heard.

The next sound was the worst. It shadowed the sound of her mother's endless goodbyes ringing in melodic whispers. It left Toby's cries in the dust. It turned all sounds she had heard in the dark Labyrinth into ridiculous, unworthy sounds of horror. Nothing was worse than the sound of the knife entering Jarah's stomach with a horrible, low squeak. Nothing, until his own sound of anguish.

The cry was nothing like she could have imagined; did everyone make such a pitiful noise when stabbed? It was kind of a grunt, but kind of a moan, wet sounding and soft. He stepped back away from her, but the knife went with him, lodged deep in his abdomen. Stumbling backwards he stared at her with big questioning eyes. She only watched in paralyzed fear as he began to die. She did not know that such a wound could kill him.

Jareth came to her side, equally as horrified as her, and took hold of her arm. She let him, and they watched as Jarah struggled and hiccupped. Blood, a purplish red came oozing out from his white lips and dribbled down his chin to stain his jacket. He fell to his knees and then slumped face down in a swift fall that sent the knife further into his gut. Both Sarah and Jareth flinched.

When all was still and silent, Sarah took a nervous step forward.

"Help me." She whispered and Jareth moved to her. Together the two of them turned Jarah's body over, revealing a face neither recognized.

Gone was the hard bones and cold expression. His features had softened and aged backwards: he looked like nothing more than a young man. His wide eyes were open and stared blankly upwards into nothing, but they were no long black with their ghostly white pupils. Instead they were a lovely pale violet, mixed with blue, and the pupils were a healthy human black. His hair had thinned and shortened slightly and his girth had waned so he was meeker. He looked so sadly human.

"Jareth," Sarah's voice was soft and dry. "I don't understand."

The goblin king kneeled down behind her and embraced her.

"I had forgotten." He said against her hair. "That we were once mortal."

"I did not think it would kill him… How old are you?" She wanted to turn to look at him, but his proximity was too tempting. She wanted to be in control of herself, even when she felt like everything was about to burst.

"Older than I thought I was, I suppose." His answer was so honest and his tone was so sad.

She almost turned to face him, but something caught their eye. Slithering out from Jarah's dead lips was a black filmy snake. It had no face or features, but it moved like a living creature slithering upwards until it was suspended in the air, twisting slowly.

Overwhelmed with memory, Jareth dragged Sarah backwards and searched wildly for an exit.

"Don't touch it Sarah!"

"Jareth!"

The dark creature was too fast for them. It pounced on Sarah before Jareth could make it any closer to the above exit. It clung to her lips momentarily before surging down her throat. She seized with its entry and bucked against Jareth, who was taken aback and dropped her to the floor.

He watched, horror-stricken, as her skin paled and her hair darkened. She cried when it began to grow, very swiftly, from her scalp, which bled in surprise. The nails on her fingers sharpened and lengthened so they looked more like claws. Jareth fell to her side and touched her face gently, trying to calm her twitching. He was close enough to watch her eyes, so beautiful and green, deepen until they were black. Her pupils began to shine and when their light subsided, they were no longer black.

It was this final transformation that brought her to sudden stillness, so she was sprawled on her back, arms outstretched and hair splayed in a wild halo around her head. Her nightmarish eyes gazed upwards at nothing. Jareth above her felt the rush of guilt overwhelm him and he grasped her hands in his.

Their silence was broken by soft whispers from the perimeter of the room. The masked faces of the crowd filed out from the darkness nervously. Among their chanting could be heard: queen, the new queen.

And queen she now was; the essence of nightmare had infected her. Its twisted body was inside, leaking into her mortal soul, biting at her heart to try and darken it. She felt cold and ill.

When Jareth tried to touch her she found herself swiping wildly at him so he backed away from her nervously, sheer sorrow in his bright eyes.

"I am so sorry." He said quietly.

Tears began to leak from her strange new eyes. From above, salty rain poured down on them.

Her subjects bowed low to the floor.

With one look, the nightmare queen sent Jareth flying away softly. He could not bring himself to look back at her, even as the door closed softly behind him. He may have shed a few tears of his own as he flew blindly home, for it was his fault after all.

What price could he pay for the infection's reversal? What could he do to save the girl he had longed for so long?

_Nothing._

For she was Nightmare now, and he was Dream. Destined opposites, yet twins. And there was nothing that could be done now to change that.

* * *

**Okay, I lied; we may yet have two more chapters until the end! I know this one was short, but I hope you still enjoyed! The original plan was to have all three final parts as one chapter, but I decided to split them apart...Review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Eight Years Later**

Sensing one's own daughter is something difficult to explain. It works best to use the nose as a tool for this sensing, since the scent of one's child is unique and easy to recognize by the mother. So it was Sarah's scent that Linda sensed first and this is what drew her from her sleep and into clarity late that evening. It had been so long since she had thought of her, even though her photo stood framed on Linda's bedside table. She would be twenty-five now, right?

Linda, awake, peered through the darkness to look at that picture frame. The photo was one that Sarah had sent three years ago, of her, holding a degree in English Writing next to a proud looking Jareth. Linda had at first found the picture a bit shocking, and almost began a search to find Sarah again, since she was presumably in the mortal world. However, she realized soon after that the picture was fake, taken to soothe her now-husband's idea that Sarah was living with some reclusive millionaire. Jareth was a good liar. Jeremy bought that lie well and framed the picture for Linda to keep safe. Sometimes she found herself wondering about how they posed for that: whether Sarah was uncomfortable when it was taken, if the cap and gown she wore was comfortable or if it was itself fake too.

Through the dark she could see Sarah's smile, and feeling engulfed by the scent of her, reached out to touch the glass covering the picture. Coolness under her touch, yet she felt as though she could sense Sarah's warmth near her, carrying her scent on the wind to her. For the first time in a very long time, Linda felt entirely content. The smile on her daughter's photographed face may well have been stupidly false and unreal, but it was soothing to her eye. It was a fairytale to believe in beyond all others and it gave her the shallow comfort that she needed.

Their connection was severed, the bond between mother and child was lost now and Linda was glad of this. Linda had never truly wanted to be a mother anyway. And now the child was gone, finally after years of confusion and back and forths between the king of the goblins. She was finally at peace. The beautiful picture had sealed the deal; it was the affirmation that her responsibility was fulfilled. Now she could just be Linda. Linda with Jeremy.

No spoiled children to bother her.

Or so she thought.

But the child who was now no longer a child, the unreal in-between girl was standing in a convenient shadow, watching her mother quietly rejoice in losing her. It was an odd kind of terror, to see her own mom happy to see that she was no longer around, but Sarah was not very surprised. The woman in bed rolled over and clung to the man sleeping on the other side. The girl-woman in shadows took a cautious step forward and watched for a moment longer before shaking her head gently.

Sarah had been visiting all these years. Watching Linda, the actress get role after role, and perform them all well. Watching Jeremy pick a ring and ask her to marry him. Watching them live everyday as though nothing existed but them. It made her ache for love, made her wish she could make herself nightmare them into insanity… But she had to be good. As hard as that was, she knew that somewhere deep in her befuddled mind she needed to be good. It would be only too easy for her to send Linda the kinds of dreams that would make her insane. She could sense, when she first arrived at her mother's in secret, that Jarah had been there and tortured the spirit out of Linda. Sarah wouldn't dare touch her after the nightmares that Jarah had given her. It was time to leave her alone for good. She never deserved what torture she had been dealt.

"I loved you, Mom." She said meekly, before vanishing away.

She reappeared in a chamber that used to be hers, a place where she had once lived, in the aftermath of discovering her state as Jareth's prisoner. It had not changed much.

The ceiling was still aglow with crystals; the bed was in an unmade state of rumpled covers and violent disarray, as she had left it years ago when she had tried to run away home. Hair pins she had worn were still left on the vanity counter where she had dropped them, untouched.

The bathroom was a mess, the kind of happy mess that she had always kept her bathrooms in. Spilled soap and tooth brush still covered in unused paste. Her razor was sitting face up, the gel coating covered in layers of filmy dust. The mirror was a little dusty too, but one swift swipe from her hand cleared that away. She quickly looked away from her reflection and wandered back into her old room. The fireplace was cold and care, so she casually sent a small blue spark to the old wood that still sat there.

Its warmth was slow to rise but it was comfortable soon enough for her to relax into the chair that had once been Jareth's. Not long after she had settled a familiar voice spoke from the door.

"Yer majesty." Hoggle peered at her intently. The black cap he wore on his head slipped a little and he adjusted it.

"Yes?" She answered.

"Ye know he can probably feel ya." The dwarf entered the room slowly and with the kind of nervous tension of a cat in a new place. He, like Sarah, had not been here in many years.

"I know, Hoggle." She said, trying not to sound angry. But it was difficult to master a gentle tone when she felt a horrible, dark emotion rolling around inside of her.

Eight years and she was still having trouble mastering it.

"Shouldn't we leave?" He mumbled, obviously hurt by her sharp tone.

The queen shook her head and gestured for him to sit in the chair opposite her. The dwarf did and Sarah tried to smile at him.

"Now, Sarah, I know yer trying to be sweet, but that grin of yours is damn so identical to Jareth's that it is scary."

The smile dissipated and she looked glum.

"I'm sorry Hoggle." She said. "I can't ever seem to remember how to do things like I used to."

"At least ye don't eat raw meat no more." He smiled.

She winced and recalled the first two years of nightmare-rule, the years of raw birds and fish. Horror was an infection that she was not good at handling. It had taken her at least three years before she had actually changed her clothes from the swirling living garb that Jarah had been prone to wearing. She realized now that it was a nightmare essential. Mastering its permanent removal was an ordeal, but it was worth it now that she could wear jeans.

Hoggle was growing nervous. "He's going to come."

"Then let him. It's time that we spoke." She said sternly and this silenced the dwarf.

The two of them waited.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jareth was pacing. Crop at hand in case a wandering goblin wandered too near him, the king moved sullenly about the throne room, sensing a rippling disturbance and too anxious to seek it out. It was familiar in two ways: one, it smelled of nightmare. That super sweet and sugary scent, that was always on the edge of pleasant and disgusting. But mixed in with its content was the miraculous hint of the woman. She was a woman now right? Mortals aged beyond his understanding, and Jareth had made enough mistakes in thinking she was ready for him to pursue her.

He was certain now that she was beyond his reach now. He did not even know if she was still in any part Sarah still. He wandered with the smell of her drawing him place to place. He came upon the trick chamber door to her room. Here the smell was the strongest.

He pressed his face against the wood. The texture became clearer to him, his senses so strong that even behind the smooth ridges of wood he could feel the warmth of life. It moved, drawing the warm smells of Sarah closer to him.

And they were only a door away from each other. He pressed his hands up against the wood, searching through the wood to find her mirrored warmth. He found her hands, near her cheek.

On the other side Sarah was pressed up against the door. Like Jareth, she could sense his warmth and his touch through the door. But she could no more make herself open the door than he could. They were each suspended, a wall of wood between them, passing their warmth back and forth in gentle waves.

"Sarah." Hoggle spoke in a dangerous whisper because he could see three bright tears draw marble-clear lines down her pale face. She did not move to clean them up.

Instead she turned and kissed the door where she could sense Jareth's cheek was. On the other side he could feel this gentle impression and a sweet fire shot through him.

He drew the door open.

But no one was there.

He stepped into the chamber and found nothing under the glow of the crystals. Only the hard memories, raw as though they were fresh wounds. But twinkling against the stone floor he could see three hard stones, clear as glass and speckled with salt stain. He gathered them up and realizing what they were, raised them to hold them in his mouth. He could taste her sadness as they dissolved in his mouth, making him wish he had only tasted one at a time to make the sorrow last longer. He left before letting himself feel pain, locking the door to the bedroom as he left so no one, true Sarah or mocking poltergeist, could tempt his heart again.

* * *

Hoggle was confused as he followed Sarah down the maw-like hallway of her cave-dwelling. Her back was turned and she walked swiftly as though she was angry. The dwarf was not sure if he should say anything, but he made a point of sending some of the nightmare folk running with cold, blue stares. It had taken time, but Sarah had appointed Hoggle as her second in command, and the folk of the dark lands had protested this idea for quite a while. Eventually Sarah had gained loyalty and with that Hoggle had power. He was the first person citizens went to if they wanted something. Sarah was rarely bothered.

She paused in her walk in the hallway, her eyes flaring in a familiar way. She momentarily vanished. When she reappeared seconds later, her face blank, Hoggle patted her hand gently. Regardless of how many years she had been queen, she was sometimes still disturbed by the requirements of her job. Most nightmares were sent by crystals. But a few particular dreams, the special ones, required Sarah's own presence.

"Was it a bad one?" Hoggle asked.

"They all are." The young woman turned and started walking again. But Hoggle was void of his patience now.

"Sarah, why did we go there?"

The queen stopped and eyed him from behind a curtain of her hair. Her black eyes rolled in her head a little, like a crabby teenager.

"I missed him." She said.

"Yer torturing him." He snapped.

"Why the concern?" She tilted her head.

No matter how much Hoggle loved his dear friend, her transformation left her the most horrifying creature he had ever looked upon. Her temper had shortened, her mood had grown somber, and she walked on the edge of anger so often now that he had on more than one occasion had to run for his life. He couldn't blame her; she had not asked for this curse. And she did everything she could to regain the self she had lost.

"Ya should stop hurting him." He said.

"If it weren't for him I would be mortal now. Maybe married. College…" Her voice fumbled and stopped altogether. A lot of their conversations were like that, it was the only way that Sarah could curb her temper.

"You love him."

Her hands rolled into tight fists.

"You love him."

Her hands relaxed. "I'm the perfect example of Stockholm syndrome." She grumbled.

"Huh?"

She shook her head and stalked away, but Hoggle let himself smile slightly. A little bit of the real Sarah had come through the haunt.

It was happening every day now, little moments of the true Sarah coming through the shadow of her renewed soul soaked in scares. She was coming back now and he was relieved.

Now if only she could just kiss the damn goblin king already.

* * *

**Stubborn people. Almost done friends. I hope this has a happy ending… Review! And get ready because the final chapter comes tomorrow...**


	15. Chapter 15

She was finally there. Standing right there in front of him. Her hip was tilted and her hand rested casually on her side. She was wearing black jeans, delightfully tight, and mid-thigh boots. A baggy dark green tunic covered her upper body and did little to hide the growth in her breasts.

All this Jareth was happily shocked by. But most shocking was how short she had cut her hair, only a few breaths longer than her shoulders. It was black and wavy and free of the beads and bones that Jarah had been pleased to wear. She was still dressing like Sarah. She still smelled like Sarah, even under the heavy current of sugary scented air. Her eyes were wrong. Regardless, every other bone and skin he could see was distinctly her. It had been a long time since he left her in the nightmare kingdom, but he could never forget her. He was a little put off by her peculiar glare.

But who was he to complain?

She bit her lip. He tried to straighten and puff out a little. He was dressed dark like her today, in blacks and leathers. At his chest hung his amulet, heavy against his kin and suddenly cold, because his body warmed when she appeared. He tried to quell the slight blush he could feel on his skin and wondered if he could magic a bit more eye shadow on while she was not paying attention. He might be a heartsick fool, but gods above; he was going to look good around her.

"So." She was the first to speak.

"So."

"Love me?"

"Always."

This was enough. She leaned across the desk where he had been working when she appeared. Perhaps "working" was not the right word, because he had actually been gazing into his crystals, where memories of Sarah pre-nightmare were shining. She had interrupted him watching her in a crystal as she wrote something in a journal. It was a moment stolen from her life before she was a Runner. Her green eyes, like perfect jewels, were warm and young. Her rosy skin peeked out from the long locks of her raven dark hair. All this was replaced with the pale and womanly piece of nightmare that was leaning down in front of him.

Her stare was wrong and it was almost impossible for him to hold her gaze. But amid the blackness he could detect the small sinews of emerald iris. They were small and faint, but there and visible for him to cherish. Her lips curled into an awkward smile that quickly vanished.

Then she was kissing him and Jareth, the king of the dreams lost the love game to the queen of nightmares. They may have been like that for hours, neither could tell for certain. The kiss was not like any other kisses previous. It was slow and soft; they were each trembling a little because it had been so long since they had seen each other. To Sarah, he was the Jareth she had always known, the bright and golden Puck of the labyrinth, the king and the trickster in a strange tandem person. To Jareth, this Sarah was a new one: not the girl child or giddy babe, and hardly the teenager he had tricked and jailed. She was now older and this made her seem new all over again. She was not the girl in the obnoxious ball gown staring up at him with sad, scared eyes. Sarah was a queen, as she was always meant to be. She was lush with magic, transferred from his brother; the nightmare infection took on a whole new meaning in her. It was a horror he knew that she could handle; she was wild enough for it.

"So." She whispered against his mouth.

He breathed deeply; the best of Sarah's smell came from the soft skin of her face.

"I'm thinking we should merge our kingdoms. I think we rule under similar politics and I believe the endeavor would please the majority of my citizens."

He opened his eyes and smiled. It was a mischievous one though, nothing like the childish grin she was trying to hide.

"I think that would be a wise move for you." He said.

"For me?" She leaned back and took her smell and kisses with her. "I believe that you are the one benefiting from this prospect."

"Really? How then?"

"Who would not benefit from a powerful, terrifying woman to rule half your country?" At this moment, her expression soft and her wild eyes calm, their secret green

"You aren't as scary as you think, precious."

He regretted that later.

Hoggle chuckled to himself. The tea in his lap was sweet and smelled of peaches. Not his favorite flavor, but certainly a nice one. It was the only kind Sarah kept in her caves, but he enjoyed it enough. The fire before him was soft and warm, near dying, but he had time to enjoy before needing to kindle it.

It had been maybe three hours since Sarah had left, her temper bursting and her magic spitting wild flaming crystals, black as night, from her hands.

"Now Sarah," Hoggle had said calmly. "Instead of arguing with yourself why don't you just go talk to Jareth?"

A burning crystal came whipping through the air towards his head, but a simple lean to the left made it easy to avoid injury.

"Please, just go." He was mildly exasperated.

The queen spun around and glared at him.

"Sarah," He said sternly. "Just go."

And she had gone. And what happened in those many hours where she was not home Hoggle was not inclined to know. Nor did he care, because he knew that she had reconciled with the king and there may be a kind of peace treaty, or form of legal slavery that would enable them to live a happy eternity.

He hoped. He was never certain, but he hoped.

Sometimes plans go exactly as they are desired, with each step taken perfectly, no stumbling or trip ups. But this plan had taken a few awkward detours after it had been conceived. Once the numerous options had been chosen and accepted, it had been easy to take these mistakes and make something good out of them. He had not counted on Sarah actually loving his brother, but he had added it to the equation in case something like that was true.

His truest intention was to be killed. And the death was as fabulous and ecstatic as he had always hoped it would be. He was torn slowly, like the painstaking drag of the hangnail across the finger. It was agony, beautiful agony that shook in his entire body before tearing his soul up and out of his damned body. The nightmare was then able to leak slowly away from his corpse and attack the mortal girl. His plan was fulfilled.

The first half anyway.

The ghost man smiled. Below him his brother was asleep, his arms wrapped tightly around the new queen of nightmares, who was wide awake. She was clinging to his arms, even if her gaze was faraway.

"You can sense me, little queen." His whisper was too quiet for her to hear. It was a feature of being dead that he did not enjoy; he liked to be loud.

Sarah gazed around the room, her brow furrowed in worry. He waited for her to settle into Jareth's embrace again before he sank to her side and touched her cheek with his soft hand.

Gooseflesh ran across her skin, for she could not feel the touch, only the cold.

He laughed quietly. She turned in the sheets and curled up closer to Jareth, who clutched her tightly in his sleep. She was nervous, and he knew she could sense him.

"Sleep now, little one," Jarah said. "I will see you soon enough."

The plan was doing well.

He was excited, because soon he would have what he deserved.

Sarah was chilled. So she drew herself closer to the man beside her. His warmth was like being kissed by the sun. Though a damp cold ran in her veins with her blood, making her immortal, making her frightening, Jareth's warmth radiated through her, touching every icy pain and warming her. She worried that in turn her bitter cold was running races through him, invading in his summer burn, but he never mentioned it. She had the happy feeling that everything had settled, and that her life could move forward now.

Perhaps having those eight years of her own to fumble and make mistakes was what she had needed to recover her soul from the blank prison she had put it in. She had been able to come to terms with her years in the illusion and had found a way to forgive Jareth. Now filled with the haunt of nightmare and the touch of immortality she could begin to understand the impatience and frustration Jareth had felt at losing so much in his life. It was beginning to make just a little sense. Living forever meant watching everyone around him come and go, in waves of bliss and agony he had loved for the longest time. So she could understand the bad behavior. He was certainly flawed.

He made a gentle sound in his sleep and dragged her closer, as though his waking fear of letting her go and flowed into the realm of his sleep. Now a queen of nightmares, Sarah had the ability to step into people's sleeping minds, which she did at that moment to see Jareth's mind when he slept.

"I wondered when you would come."

She opened her eyes and saw a beautiful park: it was greener than any green she had ever seen, shining with a soft shine from the sun, who was partially hidden behind pale grey clouds. Behind her stood a tall oak tree, so tall that she was certain its leaves were conversing with the clouds. And just at her side, holding her hand gently was none other than Jareth, looking rather human.

"I did not know you could control this place." She said.

He frowned knowingly. "Of course, I am the king of dreams."

"And goblins." She smiled, for the first time in many years it was her own natural smile.

"Yes," This he was not as pleased with. She laughed and it was her own laugh.

"It's wonderful here!" She said.

He smiled, and his teeth didn't seem as sharp as before. "I can influence how you look here. I can make you mortal."

"What a lovely illusion." She said softly and kissed him. "I feel like myself here."

"As do I dear." He said.

And into their secret garden in the spectral land of dreams, they walked hand in hand… For a little while anyway. For soon, like children, they raced across the grass, leaping over twigs and soaring over small brooks and rivers. They vanished away together quietly, so no one would ever find a trace of them in the land of dreams.

**Hello friends, this is the end of **_**Prisoner**_**, and I want to give you all a big thank you for reading this story. I had not intended for it to go beyond the initial tale, but the final conception of the story called for a few sequels and one-shots that I have in the works that clear up questions, account for stories untold and are just plain fun to have around. So, my question for you all is what would you like posted first? Let me know from some of the choices below:**

_**Prisoner: The Nightmare Queen**_

**(this is a sequel to the story where Sarah and Jareth must deal with the ghost of Jarah, a very pesky poltergeist with intentions of coming back to take over the Underground)**

_**Prisoner: The Twins**_

**(a look back at the history of Jareth and his brother Jarah, once mortal twins who made a deal with powerful Fae)**

_**Prisoner: The Years of Nightmare**_

**(this is a look into a few moments of Sarah's life as the nightmare queen in the eight years she is struggling to regain some of her humanity while learning to control the nightmare)**

_**Prisoner: Into the Illusion**_

**(a series of one-shots that look at Sarah's life in the illusion, minor appearances from Jareth, who manipulates her fantasy)**

**Let me know if you have an opinion on the order of these stories appearances. **

**Thank you all again for reading! See you soon!**


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